Does anyone REALLY like turkey? Let’s be honest. As a squirmy 8 year old I can remember stuffing the large portion of turkey my mother placed on my plate (right next to the cranberry jelly looking blob) into my sock then making sure our Poodle Mandy was well fed when my mother wasn’t looking. Turkey always seems so dry to me. It’s just not something I enjoy. Don’t get me wrong. I completely love the thought of a Thanksgiving Day spread with everything one could possibly make beginning at 4:30 in the morning as my mother always did. The turkey just wasn’t my cup of tea. I did however enjoy the crusty skin which I would stealthily pick off quickly when my mother wasn’t looking. I think she knew I was doing this when I think back on the mischievous action. In my minds eye she would turn for long enough that I could reach up on my toes and snatch a crunchy sliver stuffing it quickly into my mouth before she turned back around smiling at me. I miss my mom greatly during the holidays.
I cherished the week of Thanksgiving as a child. My older sister and I would set up the card table in the basement and play a week long game of Monopoly or Life. Leaving the game only to watch the Macys Day Parade or a movie or food was involved. Food was a major player for my sister. Me not so much. She was 5 years older than me. I was a July 4th, 1965 baby. We were complete opposites. I irritated the hell out of her just because I was alive I think. She never warmed to the idea of a younger sibling (we are both adopted). The week of Thanksgiving was a very special time for me because she acknowledged me as a sibling and the monopoly game was my only interaction with her until Christmas came around. I worshiped her. Her long shiny brown hair was stunning. My hair was always in a little Dutch boy cut (which I completely love actually). I woke up early ready to explore the day where as she slept in until my mother called up the stairs for her. That week of monopoly was a delightful part of my childhood. ::::smiling:::::::: When the Macys Day Parade began I would sit glued to the TV. Mom would bring my favorite scrambled egg sandwich which I then promptly smushed as flat as I could between my hands. I would nibble the crust off first then work my way into the middle until just a bite was left. I savored that last bite greatly.
Everyone has their childhood memories. Mine come bubbling up at unexpected times during the holidays. I like to turn them around in my head and explore any meaning or detail that I may have missed or haven’t thought about in a long time. There were the neighborhood friends who many I am still in touch with because of FB and social media (thankfully). During this bizarre world of the thing we shall not name and hopefully it will go away (Covid 19) staying in touch with one another is extremely important. I got up way too early this morning searching for something in my memory. I found this photo from a Thanksgiving recital in Atlanta. I was 5 years old here so basically 1970. I remember being so cold in this wee outfit. There were hundreds of children at this recital. Why were there so many children I have no idea. My shoes were a wee bit too tight but I loved the way they clacked clacked when I walked so I didn’t say a thing to my mother for fear she wouldn’t let me wear them. The skirt in this photograph was corduroy. It had intricate beading which I found to be quite beautiful. So many new faces at this recital I was captivated by the energy in the building although at the time I had no idea how sensitive I am to people. That’s why I thrive at the airport. So many people and all that energy swirling around! It’s intoxicating.
I woke up this morning very early. Childhood memories are a delightful thing. Not everything in your childhood is perfect. Some moments are.
From my home to you – I hope you are able to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday in a most wonderful way. Remember Zoom if you can’t be with family. We are all connected in some way. You are not alone!
Kimy Continue reading