I see Thanksgiving as a food-centered day where family and friends eagerly get together for a satisfying meal, a good time, and to engage in pleasant conversations. Even in families where the members are cordial but not close, you might make it through the day without creating ill will if you keep religion, politics, and social issues out of the conversation. I admit those happen to be some of my favorite topics, but I discuss them at the appropriate time and place. Nothing kills an appetite like a bad conversation.
There are some safe subjects to discuss during mealtime. For instance, you could talk about movies and TV, or music. I like to talk about books and writing. (Do I hear groans?) Or, you could have a roundtable “what are you thankful for” session. That would likely work better in a small group of, say, six or seven people instead of a conference room size table with a dozen or more guests. But even that question has the potential to spark flames. I’m going to use fictitious names here to make a point. Any resemblance to people you might know is strictly coincidental.
Widowed Aunt Wilomena might say, “I’m thankful for getting the stimulus checks,” only to have alcoholic Uncle Nelson, who has already downed several gin and tonics counter with, “Well, I didn’t get mine. Those damned idiots in DC don’t know what they heck they are doing.”
Alleged devout Christian, Cousin Vivian, who tells anyone who will listen that she is saved, makes a religious effort to defuse a potentially volatile situation by quickly interjecting. “I am thankful for my generous family.” That raises a few eyebrows as nearly every adult at the table from who Vivian has borrowed money, over past years but never repaid, (that would be most of them), start shifting in their chairs, clearing their throat, and purposely holding their tongue.
Unfortunately, because political correctness now runs amuck in society, almost any subject is potentially explosive. So, proceed with caution. And if you, like I, have friends who, let’s say, are persons of non-color, hope that they will think – twice – before innocently setting off a potential firebomb.
Twenty-something-year-old Cousin Malcolm’s recently proclaimed fiancée, Becky, who most of those present are meeting for the first time, impulsively chimes in, “Well, I’m thankful for Black Lives Matter.”
Some folks who are slicing their meat, stop mid-stroke and start cutting their eyes, play with the food on their plate, or quickly begin stuffing their mouth as smiling Becky waits for a response that finally brings a subdued “Um-hum” or two.
Race matters should probably be number one on the list of touchy topics to avoid during Thanksgiving gatherings, especially in a mixed-race group. It’s best to save the cayenne pepper hot topics for another time and place. Surely, we all know the old saying about good intentions. Yes, that one – that implies that sometimes there are unintended consequences to good intentions.
On that note, I’ll leave things right there and, specific to the subject of this post, reflect on what I am thankful for – many things. But more than anything, I am grateful for the memories created by Thanksgiving’s past.
I deeply miss Thanksgiving dinners at my parents’ house with immediate family members when I was a young child and as an adult with our children and spouses. But those occasions when my family spent Thanksgiving down south at my grandma’s (Maw, we called her) farmhouse were the most unforgettable and enjoyable times of my life.
That long holiday weekend was one of the few occasions during the year when I got to see a number of my aunts, uncles, and cousins all together in one place. Of course, the only thing better than mingling with my extended family during those times was sitting down to enjoy the Thanksgiving Day meal. Thinking about it even now makes my mouth water and my triggered imagination take control.
I am standing in Maw’s kitchen watching my mom and aunties bustling around, helping Maw prepare a feast. The kitchen is lit with an appetizing aroma, including the smell of the turkey and ham that took turns roasting in the oven. A huge pot of collard greens harvested fresh from Maw’s garden is blowing off steam on the stovetop. Delicious, complimenting side dishes crowd the table. Corn shaved from the cob. Baked macaroni and cheese. Homemade cornbread, stuffing, and hush puppies. The last things to go into the oven are homemade rolls. Hardly anything came from a box or can including the fruit in the sweet potato and apple pies baked earlier in the day. I don’t know how all of those scrumptious dishes fit on the table, but the cooks made it work.
In my mind – once upon a time down south – Thanksgiving was a magical event that I will never forget. For those memories and beautiful experiences, I am thankful.
Wishing all of my readers a delicious, memorable, and Happy Thanksgiving (and those who don’t observe it – have a wonderful day anyway.)