Our First (And Only) Thanksgiving Alone by Margo Hoornstra

A recent post here at Roses of Prose by Alison Henderson got me thinking. You may remember Alison shared that this would be her very first Thanksgiving with her only daughter living too far away to make it home for dinner.

I could relate because, quite a few years ago, I was the daughter in a similar situation. Alison's daughter moved away from home to accept a new job. I had moved far from home, not so much by choice, but with my new husband who was Regular Army.

The Viet Nam conflict was in full swing. Those years were chaotic for many of us just starting out. Six weeks after our wedding, my husband was sent to Fort Knox for basic training. Obviously, no wives allowed. That was hard to accept. I returned to my old room at my parents house. Ron and I saw each other only a handful of times over the next three months. That was hard too. Then he graduated from basic and was assigned to missile school at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas. The good news, I could now go with him. The bad news, we'd be three days drive from where we lived in Michigan.

At the ripe old age of nineteen, I was away from home for the first time in my life. Sure my husband was with me, or more accurately, I was with him. We were so in love and thrilled to be together again. That didn't stop either one of us from being homesick. Especially as the holidays rolled around.

"You didn't miss much on Halloween." It was my father's attempt at humor. His way of softening the blow. His way of accepting the fact that both of his children - my brother was in the Navy at the time, stationed in California - wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving this year.

Determined to enjoy our own celebration, we went to the commissary and bought a turkey and, as they say, all the trimmings to cook in our new house. We invited some soldier friends over who would have otherwise spent the day in the barracks.

Forget the fact that I wasn't then, nor am I now the greatest cook. Having no clue what I was doing, I stuffed the turkey and put it in the oven as I'd seen my mother and my grandmothers do. We made mashed potatoes, probably a vegetable, though I don't remember what it was. We served gravy of some form or another. I don't remember the specifics of that either. What I do remember is, as we sat down to carve our bird, the first slice was tinged with green. Not a good sign. Upon further exploration, we discovered I'd neglected to remove the bag of giblets. But, hey, they were cooked too and the rest of the meat was fine. And we had a story to tell our children and grandchildren.

One of our guests, who happened to be a cook, baked a yellow cake with chocolate butter cream icing that was fantastic. The best we'd had, ever. Another story to share.

We talked, we joked, we laughed, we played cards after dinner. In short, we all had a good time. For a little while, none of us thought about being away from home, being away from our families, missing out on the traditions we'd known all our lives.

In the years since, we've been very lucky to be home when those holidays roll around. Celebrating with our parents and grandparents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. As time went on, with our children and, more recently, our grandchildren.

There's something I've come to realize. That first, and only, Thanksgiving alone - we really weren't alone at all.

Have a terrific Thanksgiving everyone! Where ever you are on that day. Whomever you are with.

Creating New Traditions

We have a small family; there are just three of us--my husband, my daughter, and me. For the past twenty-five years we have lived hundreds of miles from the nearest extended family, so we've developed our own family holiday traditions. I cook exactly the same foods every year, serve them on exactly the same dishes, in a house decorated exactly the same way. My daughter has always been very vocal about the importance of maintaining those traditions. Nothing can change--ever.

But this year, everything will change.

A few months ago and five years into a PhD program in Egyptian Art and Archaeology, she decided she was finished with school. She no longer wanted to sacrifice for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (partly because there no longer IS a pot of gold at the end of that particular rainbow). She wanted to grow up, be financially independent, and have a real life. I fully supported her decision because I understand how important it is to do what's right for you without worrying about disappointing others. Last spring, when she began her search for a full-time job, I warned her it might take a while. Little did I know how long that "while" would last.

Finally, in October, she got her first real full-time job. We're thrilled for her. It's an excellent job, for which she is perfectly suited and well-trained. No parent could ask for more. But it means big changes for our family holiday celebrations, at least this year. She lives in Chicago, and we've moved to California. As a new employee, she won't get enough time off to travel for Thanksgiving or Christmas. My husband and I plan to fly to Chicago for Christmas, but for the first time ever, we'll be spending Thanksgiving apart. 

Our daughter says she's going to treat the day as a day off from work and try to pretend it isn't a holiday. I don't know what we'll do. Most of the nice restaurants in town serve big Thanksgiving dinners, but I don't know whether we'll try that. I once ate Thanksgiving dinner in a Howard Johnson's in Poughkeepsie while I was in college, but that's not an experience I care to repeat. The only certainty at this point is that, one way or another, the holidays will be different this year.