In Thanksgiving

 From the beginning, Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. Even as a child, stepping into the warmth of my grandmother's kitchen was better than endless candy at Halloween and even ranked above Christmas presents from Santa. Thanksgiving was the only day of the year that the Allen Family and any other wayward souls came together to celebrate the abundance of our lives. As a whole, our family was not especially religious, but this day, apart from all others, definitely felt like the most profound of rituals.

My grandmother was an amazing cook; many of my memories settle on the sights and smells of the dishes that seemed to appear out of thin air from her tiny oven. It was like a miracle each time I witnessed the process even though I clearly knew what was coming. The menu was always the same: turkey, two kinds of stuffings (sage and oyster), mashed potatoes and gravy, two or three vegetables, cranberry sauce, and at least two kinds of pie. And somehow, each dish was cooked perfectly. The hardest day I ever had was Thanksgiving of 1972 when I was unable to go home from college for the holiday. It was my first Thanksgiving away from Grandma's kitchen. The next few didn't get much better either. I remember very few Thanksgivings that did not end with tears of missing the Thanksgivings of my childhood. One thing that Ralph and the kids could always count on was the best Thanksgiving dinner I could replicate and a bittersweet wife and mother. I never stopped missing Grandma's kitchen and the memories it held.

Time has passed and Thanksgiving continues to take on a variety of permutations with each passing year. I easily handed over the reigns to Maria long ago, knowing that she had grown up bathed in the importance of thanksgiving and creating and sustaining family traditions. There were a few years of alternating locations between the Carter-Giannini home, Half Moon Bay, and Lake Tahoe. Then I found myself flying back from Washington and Florida until I was back home in California again. Each of these holidays had its own beauty to it. But the Thanksgiving of 2021 now ranks high on the list of memorable holidays because of the addition of our beloved Tessa. We all descended upon Dave's house for the weekend and commandeered his entire kitchen, no holds barred. I still marvel at how patient he was with all of us; no utensil or appliance was off limits. "Help yourself" was his word of the day. Dinner was amazing but the dessert with Tessa was definitely the icing on the cake. For the first time I sensed a feeling of completeness and wholeness to our family. Dave had at long last found his great love, and within minutes we had fallen deeply in love with her as well. Last year Dave and Tessa made the trip west and committed to making plans for the annual family tradition. So as I joyfully anticipated Thanksgiving 2023, it was with a feeling of contentment and anticipation, knowing that our family would once again gather around the table giving thanks for one another and the blessings that brought us together.

So this year, I again give thanks for my many happy memories of Thanksgivings past while looking forward to those that lie ahead. I have been deeply blessed with a grandmother who taught me the joy of gratitude and have been able to pass on that same commitment to my children. In the end, this is what matters: come together as family, enjoy the food and drink with which we have been blessed, laugh, love.