One Thanksgiving in the late
40’s, we headed over to my cousin’s home for Thanksgiving dinner. It began to
snow heavily as we started out and my cousin lived on a farm that was down a long lane
which began to drift into snowbanks almost immediately. But food and family lay ahead and
apparently my father never gave driving another thought! When we entered the old
brick farmhouse, the dining room was completely swallowed up with a long, long
table that fairly groaned with the lavishly decadent cuisine of the Pennsylvania
Dutch culture. The aromas hit the empty stomachs with a visceral punch! I’m sure
there was some combination of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes,
corn, peas, red-beet-eggs, pickles, potato salad, olives, chow-chow, gravy,
bread, jam – and my memory’s probably skipping over lots of things! And for
dessert, there was a staggering array of cakes, puddings crowned with whipped
cream, pies, cookies and of course, ice cream for those who needed a calories
boost to any of the afore-mentioned! It is indeed awesome to consider the amount
of physical labor that occurred around the preparation of that feast and the
cleaning-up afterward! No dish-washers for that crowd, just dishpan after
dishpan of soapy water and many, many soggy tea-towels – all punctuated by
gossip, laughter and overflowing good will.
I reflect that possibly
we were the last of my extended family to experience the enveloping embrace of
larger family events as everyone now is far-flung. The world had exploded. And
while I’m sure there are still families who maintain the traditions of
generations, my sons will never go over the river and through the woods, through
snow-banks and farmland to a crowded steamy house of family giving thanks. We
celebrate in new ways.
But the memory of that burst
from the snowy cold into a Thanksgiving kitchen filled with food and family
will shine forever.
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