Turkey day has come and gone. In this year of the pandemic, the run up to Thanksgiving led many to intense decision-making, which likely caused undue stress for folks across the United States. The question, Should I celebrate the holiday in-person with family and friends? is a very personal one. It’s one, I guess, that many folks struggled with this year.
Thanksgiving is one of most popular U.S. holidays and families look forward to it all year long to reunite, share life-stories, and overindulge in food with loved ones. Pass the turkey, please. For most that means traveling by car over the river and through the woods, by train, or by airplane. More than three million travelers are expected to pass through airport security this holiday. That’s a lot of dedicated and determined people.
David and I had to make the big decision too. Since we moved to the desert, we have joined my brother, John (aka Jack) and his wife, Carol, each year, for an outdoor celebration of Thanksgiving. We really wanted to go. We haven’t seen them since February, right before the pandemic officially began, and we miss their company. I also wanted to see the other family members who are regulars at our desert celebrations. But, it didn’t take long to decide that we were going to sit out this celebration. Because of the precarious health situation that David’s traumatic brain injury poses, we decided it better to remain home.
So, at 8:30 a.m. I prepped the turkey, made the stuffing, and popped the bird in the oven at 10 a.m. Dinner was served on the patio at 3:30 p.m. in a balmy 73˚ with all the sides, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce. And, for dessert, pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream, of course. After dinner, David and I relaxed on the patio appreciating this once-a-year feast and each other.
The aroma of the turkey feast still lingers and so do our memories of a Thanksgiving alone.
Left-overs are on the meal agenda for the next few days and turkey soup is cooking in the crockpot. If there was no pandemic, I’d invite you all over for dinner. Soup’s on!
See you soon.
I am the author of Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale. It's the true story of how my husband almost left me--three times.