Allow me to squeeze in a few thoughts from Thanksgiving before the avalance of madness that has now become Christmas overtakes me entirely.As large families grow even larger, we have, over the decades, witnessed the ebb and flow of family gatherings. Families grow, bursting their homes at the seams, and then over time, the younger generation comes of age and becomes hosts to the older generations. Families are dispersed to manage their own smaller Thanksgivings, and then over time, children have children and suddenly the home isn't big enough any more. This Thanksgiving was one of those: bursting, loud, full of youth yet flooded with memory.
My mother is a traditionalist: she insisted on a sit-down affair with real china and silverware. We used every piece if china in the house, from mom's own silver-rimmed wedding china from Auerbach's to great-grandma Chamberlain's famous fish plates with the little lavender flowers. The silverware was Grandma Clark's. Even the raspberry Jell-O resting on a lettuce leaf on a separate salad plate was an homage to a bygone era.
When I observed Jane drinking from one of Grandma Ginny's blue glass goblets, I was overcome with the feeling that we were literally surrounded by history. Not just any history—our legacy from our own flesh, witnessing to us the great abundance that we share.
The kitchen was crammed. Every horizontal space had food on it.
The "kids table" was the largest one.
And of course, using real china and silverware means doing dishes for hours.
And what is Thanksgiving without (count 'em) 13 pies.
And what is Thanksgiving without (count 'em) 13 pies.
Oh, pie. The quintessential homage: nostalgic, humble, American, sweet, tangy, buttery, and altogether symbolic everything I love.
Raspberry-Cherry Pie
Apple with sweet pastry Not all Thanksgivings will be like this. Some will be more simple affairs as we turn once again to our own growing families. But these will be the ones I'll remember because they were like the ones from my own childhood: overcrowded rooms, fancy plates, steaming windows, giggling through the prayer at the kids table, and a feeling of abundance, fullness, gratitude in a home literally overflowing with family.
2 comments:
ahhh, you put it so beautifully Cath! So true, every word.
I love the way you write! If you ever decide to write a book, I will be the first one in line. I am with your mom. I believe Thanksgiving should be a sit down affair with real plates. My husband thinks that if we ever host again that we will be using paper plates. He just doesn't realize that I am in charge, and since I do the dishes, there will be no plastic plates in my house.
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