Early in our marriage, Michelle and I decided to spend Thanksgiving with her family; her brother had offered to host my favorite holiday. This would be the first Thanksgiving I had not spent at the home of my Domeier grandparents.
Everything seemed off that day. They didn’t plan to eat until the evening, so I sat in my basement, by myself, watching football for much of the day. I’m not sure what time we finally ate, but notoriously missing was mashed potatoes and gravy. There was also oyster stew, which I guess some people enjoy eating.
This was not how I was used to celebrating Thanksgiving. It’s hard to change a tradition where you always eat at noon, sit around with your relatives watching football all afternoon, and then have “a little lunch” before heading home to collapse into a food coma. That was the last time we did not join the Domeiers for Thanksgiving.
Until this year. In 2020, you might as well throw out any mention of “That’s how we always do it.” My sister, Angie, had offered to host Thanksgiving at their place in Mankato. We flipped and flopped about whether or not to go. I desperately wanted to see my parents and my sister’s family. At first, my sister, Mandy, and her family were planning to come as well, though my sister, Kim, already had plans to stay in Wisconsin.
But as the Covid numbers rose and the governor issued executive orders about gatherings, we reconsidered our options. After all, I was helping at the last few sporting events and was going in to work most days. Jayna was coming home from Winona, and even though she was tested a week before, we knew that this hated virus works in strange and mysterious ways.
Mandy is a funeral director and talked about how some families have been upset that they haven’t gotten a chance to see family members before they passed away this year because of Covid. Others talk about not wanting potentially to be the cause of that beloved person dying from this insidious invader. We leaned toward the latter.
I understand both sides of this, trust me. I spent many nights awake thinking about our decision. We were last all together in August for Jayna’s graduation party, but the Covid numbers then were minuscule compared to now. But shortly after I told Angie we’d be staying home, Mandy uttered the same thing about her family.
Mom and Dad went to Mankato to spend some time on Thanksgiving. The entire family did what so many others did: had a Zoom meeting. It was good to see everyone, and we finally all signed off when the tryptophan kicked in from the turkey. More than once, we uttered that we hoped things might be different in a month when Christmas arrives.
I might be in a minority, but I enjoy Thanksgiving much more than Christmas. But this year, I hope it will be the opposite if I am able to celebrate with my family in person. Who knows? Will the numbers settle down in a month? Or maybe I’ll be able to say I haven’t been around that many people, and we should be low-risk. Maybe.
But I’m a people person. I still go to the grocery store and do my shopping every week. I stop by the library to do some browsing when I get the time. What I’ve realized in doing this is just how pleasant everyone seems to be in these locations. Even a trip to the clinic brought smiles and laughter from everyone with whom I interacted.
I think this is because so many of these people are like me: we’re just so happy to be able to see and talk to others, even if it’s from six feet away, that we’re perhaps more bubbly than normal.
In between football games on Thanksgiving, I sat and watched “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving,” my very favorite Peanuts special. One line from Marcie stuck out: “Thanksgiving is not just about the food, sir.” She said this to Peppermint Patty after her friend was frustrated by the toast and popcorn Snoopy had served. I sat in my chair, struck by that profound line, this year of all years.
I had made all our typical Thanksgiving foods for our family of four: turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, green bean casserole, buns, and pumpkin pie. But something felt wrong while we were eating. The food all tasted really good, but I felt a surge of sadness swell inside. I was really happy to be with my wife and kids, but I missed the rest of my family. I missed our traditions.
I have a newfound respect for my mom and my grandmas over the years of their Thanksgiving preparations. I remember walking into my grandparents’ house and seeing my grandma busy in the kitchen, every burner on the stove going, along with what was inside the oven. I never thought about all the work that went into preparing this feast.
This was the first time I had to prepare all this myself. It took some time to sit down and plan and get the timing right for when various dishes would be done. And when we sat down shortly after noon to dig in, I was happy. Until I wasn’t.
I’m sure many of you felt some of these same emotions this year. I hope you were able at least to visit with family members via technology if you couldn’t be together. I hope we can stop this surge of the virus in our country so that Christmas doesn’t have to be like this.
And I hope I can figure out where to find one of those side toasters that Snoopy uses so adeptly in preparing his Thanksgiving “feast.”
Word of the Week: This week’s word is picaro, which means an adventurer, as in, “She was usually a picaro on Black Friday, diving into shopping crowds at early hours, but 2020 kept her at home to shop online.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!