There comes a time when the torch gets passed, and the new generation cooks the Thanksgiving turkey. Mine was yesterday, when we all traveled a hundred miles to my oldest daughter’s apartment where she and her new husband hosted their first married Thanksgiving feast. Both families–ours and her husband’s–around the dinner table, and for two hours before that watching this lovely and loving young couple dance seamlessly and gracefully through the dinner preparation while the rest of us stood around in the small kitchen with drinks in our hands and conversation on our lips. Well “gracefully” except when the diced turkey liver landed on the kitchen floor instead of the pot where it was intended, but it was all just lovely anyway.
That’s not to say that I’m not planning to wrestle the torch back once in a while, if for no reason that I LIKE to have a bunch of people around my dinner table for the holidays. And I’m a stickler for my OWN traditions. I.E., in my opinion, brussel sprouts have no place on the table at Thanksgiving, and a dusting of toasted pecans really don’t make them taste any better. And, “rice pilaf” is still no substitute for mashed potatos!!
But these are small quibbles, and the important stuff–the love and the fact that we’re all still here–was in abundance. Deep gratitude for a recent recovery from cancer was part of the dinner “thanks” just two years ago, and there’s nothing like a close brush with death to put the small stuff in perspective. Enjoy the rest of the weekend with the ones you love!