Remembering last week’s Thanksgiving celebration brings a smile to my face. I think the memories of our holiday gatherings will stay with me for a long time.
Our son and daughter-in-law visited from New York, making this the first Thanksgiving my husband and I have had with both our children, their spouses, our granddaughters, as well as my siblings and spouses (and some of their children and relatives). Over the years, we’ve often spent Thanksgivings with my husband’s side of the family, but only a few with mine. Last year, we gathered with my siblings, but our children were not there.
Our weekend of celebrations began with dinner Wednesday evening at our retirement community with both our children and their immediate households. Toddler granddaughter was fidgety, but settled down once her spaghetti and meat sauce arrived. And later her ice cream—she ate the full bowl. We discovered our infant granddaughter liked spaghetti sauce, too. At not-quite-seven-months old, she is acquiring sophisticated tastes. The adults chatted around the children, and I enjoyed it all.
Next came the highlight of the holiday weekend—the traditional Thanksgiving feast hosted by my brother and sister-in-law. Holiday meals are a lot of work, but my brother and sister-in-law pulled it off beautifully. And sent us home with leftovers.
We had sixteen family members (plus two Golden Retrievers) under one roof, with more stories and reminiscences and plenty of food. The house was alive with multiple conversations, savory aromas, and the clatter of dishes. We sat at two tables of eight. My husband and I were at the “grown-up table” (not so labeled, but so it seemed, because the granddaughters were at the other table). Our table was only marginally quieter than the “kids table” because our conversation touched on political issues.
Our third family event was lunch on Friday with our son and his wife. It was a quieter gathering, but relished all the same, as an opportunity to chat with them privately before they flew home on Saturday.
Throughout the weekend, I was so happy to see our children and their spouses interact as friends. It’s wonderful when your grown children like each other—and like each other’s spouses as well. We told old stories and new stories and let toddler granddaughter and dogs roam at will, while the baby was passed from lap to lap. Every parent wants to see their children not only get along but also like each other as adults, and in our case, everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company.
I’ve written several posts on the theme of “You know your children are grown when . . .”, and my children’s interactions this weekend brought home to me once again that they are grown. In fact, I’m over the topic of knowing when my children are grown, because they’re beyond grown—they’re now raising the next generation.
This Thanksgiving was a beautiful reminder of the importance of making time for family, of cherishing the laughter, the stories, and even the chaos that comes with a full house. It wasn’t turkey or pumpkin pie that made the day memorable—it was the sense of connection among three generations (four, counting my sister-in-law’s mother and her partner). Although although the people who celebrate change from year to year, we remain a family—a family that grows in numbers and connections.
What brings a smile to your face when you remember your Thanksgiving celebrations?
When people, whether closely related or from an open table, are joined at the same table, whether physically at the same table or figuratively.
Thanksgiving dinner is a wonderful opportunity for a communal meal, no matter who is at the table — family, friends, or strangers. Thanks for that reminder!
Theresa