I Survived!

The past week or so I have been busy babysitting one granddaughter, attending another granddaughter’s school program and preparing for hosting my family’s Thanksgiving by cleaning, putting up blinds, building a tabletop for our pool table, hauling chairs and dishes to my house from my mom’s house and did I mention cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.

For as long as I can remember my family has enjoyed our Thanksgiving feast on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  It started when I was young and my mom was a nurse working in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU).  She would work on Thursday for the extra pay and then put together this amazing meal on Saturday for my siblings, guests and myself.  As we became adults, married and started expanding the family, the tradition continued, allowing us to spend time with our spouses’ families on Thanksgiving Day, a day in-between to recover and Saturday with our family.

My single mom did it all for many years, all the cleaning, all the set up, hors d’oeuvres, turkey stuffing, pies, you name it she made it.  She was the consummate hostess, welcoming us into her home with a warmth and loving embrace, filling the day with love, laughter and wonderful food.  As time past we brought more and more to the table, offering to bring a dish to share.  Each item brought was welcomed and added to the bountiful feast.  My sister and I would help set up tables and chairs, an average number for Thanksgiving was thirty-five, and cleaning the attached garage.  We would move the car outside, mop the floor, cover the floor with an expanse of outdoor rug, and put up enough tables to seat twenty or more turning the garage into an extension of the house, a dining hall for feasting and celebrating, warmed with a woodstove creating a woodsy cabin-like feel to the garage with its cheery wood fire, glimpsed when the door was opened to add more fuel.  My brothers did their part by splitting and stacking wood, caring for the yard and getting the heavy stuff down from storage, the roaster and warming trays along with the various other odd jobs needed to be done.

Now the baton has been past on and I have taken up the role of hostess for my family’s Thanksgiving Celebration, thankful my mother, now eighty-two is still close by to lend a hand, advice and support along with dishes, chairs, an extra gravy boat and table linens.  It seemed I was forever making another trip to the store or my mother’s house for something I needed, a constant flow of movement from the time I got up until I closed my eyes for the night.  How she did it all those years amazes me, as I had the help of my wonderful husband and still ended up exhausted by the time the last of my family left on Saturday night.

Every once in awhile, in the middle of the whirlwind of preparation, I would stop what I was doing, gaze out the window and remind myself I would eventually get back to writing.  Today with a day of rest and putting my house part way back into order behind me I sat down at my computer, coffee cup in hand, and thought about my week ahead.  It stretches out in front of me, calling me to fill it with activity, thought and creativity and, yet, I think back over the last few weeks, the long days caring for my young granddaughter, the extra effort needed to bring together my family over a turkey dinner and I smile, life is meant to be lived and shared and celebrated and I have certainly been doing that. 

I can’t wait for the next gathering and all the craziness that comes along with a large family.