Smile-breaks
Getting Together for Thanksgiving Isn’t Always Easy…
…and Frea and Frank begat Kathy, Teri, Steve, Lori and Debbie; and Sheila and Rol begat Bryan, Craig, Christy and Paul; and David and Arnell begat Wendy, Michelle, John and Kevin; and...
We all live near Dad and close to each other. But the bigger our families get – as in all those begotten beings begetting new little bundles of joy – the more difficult it is to celebrate holidays together. There are just too many of us!
We used to gather at our house or my sister’s house for Thanksgiving and share the cooking and the thanking. In those days we numbered twenty-three. We thought that was a houseful! Actually, it was. But then…
Bryan grew up and married Lettie. Wendy grew up and married Elliott. Lori grew up and married Joe. Suddenly our children had in-laws. In-laws as you know, come complete with families of their own.
And Bryan and Lettie begat Tobyn and Blake and Shelby; and Craig and Dundee begat Breanna and Garrett; and Christy and Jim begat Ryan and Brett.
So I’m wondering, what do you do? How do you handle this? Thanksgiving’s coming soon and I’m desperately in need of answers.
We no longer get together with the Frea families, nor with the David families. Frea and David have enough families to fill their dining rooms and living rooms and spill over into the patio. And the Sheila families (that would be mine) are, well…
There’s Bryan’s family. They have to come early and not eat too much so they can save room for their second Thanksgiving dinner later in the day with Lettie’s family.
There’s our now-single son who can be found most holidays on the golf course and doesn’t really care if he eats a turkey on Thanksgiving but will share breakfast with us most any day of the week. After golf on Thanksgiving morning, he’ll stop by with Brea and Garrett, who have to be at their other grandmother’s at four.
There’s Paul, who still lives at home and loves any and all kinds of festivities. There are Christy and Jim and Brett and Ryan. They all moved up north to Yreka a few years ago. They won’t be able to make it this year.
So lately our Thanksgivings have been something like this: We leave town. Not really. We cook a turkey with all the trimmings and invite the family and juggle the hours to accommodate in-laws and golf and hope someone shows up and stays for more than an hour. Or we accept the in-laws’ invitation and enjoy someone else’s turkey and someone else’s family. Which isn’t bad…
One year we made reservations at a restaurant near a golf course and invited our golf-loving son and our grandchildren, Breanna and Garrett, and hurried to invite Dad because…
Every year Dad has to decide which of his three children he’ll favor with his august presence at Thanksgiving dinner. He’s wiser than most and arrived at his solution years ago. He goes with the first invitation he gets.
One of these years, I’ll get up the courage to reserve a banquet room and invite the whole family – all of them. The Frea families and the David families and all the resulting in-laws’ families. There’ll be no aroma of stuffed turkey in the oven filling our nostrils, large and small; there’ll be no sounds of football games resonating from the wide screen TV; and there’ll be no left-over turkey in the fridge. But we’ll all be together.
If you have a better idea, I’m listening…