We are starting to see all things Christmas.
((((Stop In The Name Of Love))).
Lets do Thanksgiving first okay?
I'm using memories gathered from multi family gatherings through the years for this story. We all know us. We all have suffered us. We all love us as we are. That is why we celebrate, congregate and hesitate but cannot wait to do it all again next year.
So we gather at the old place cause Thanksgiving is all about Grandma's cooking.
Grandma ain't going nowhere outside her own kitchen to be told how to do squat on Thanksgiving dinner.
Grandma got this............
So we come bearing contributions to the feast.
Let me set the visual here for the ones new to a real Thanksgiving and the family of us.
Grandma is dressed in a fresh apron over her double knit dress from 1970. Her feet are swaddled in fleece house slippers. Her ankles are folding over the sides of those slippers. Her legs show neglect of moisturizer with dry skin covered in barnacles. That double knit A-line dress has seen more use than a McDonalds drive thru. It hasn't faded, it hasn't lost it's shape, it does have just a few snags of thread here and there, but all in all it has served her well. The only complaint from Grandma about her double knit dress is that it gets HOT. Well IT don't get hot, IT causes Grandma to get HOT when her kitchen gets too crowded while she cooks.
On the other hand, Grandma can get hot if her political views are contested. We all know when to change the subject when Grandma lifts her apron to wipe her face and neck free of sweat rivlets. Otherwise Grandma is as smooth as custard. Add the heat from her double knit dress while she is busy cooking and the politics start up and things get really HOT.
Years back Grandma had called times on politics at holiday gatherings.
It still comes up, but less often now.
Don't want Grandma to shut down her kitchen for Thanksgiving.
Anyway, Grandma has the dressing in the oven, the turkey is resting on the kitchen bar all brown and crispy skinned around the breast and drumstick parts. The giblet gravy is simmering on the back burner. The dumplins are soaking in several inches of yellow turkey fat.......................
"Mercy, it smells good in here Mama".
"My intentions Horace".
" Mama I want you to show Meryl how'ta make them dumplins".
" Meryl shou'da come earlier. I'da showed her then".
" Shut up Horace, I ain't stay'in if you start up this year".
"Aww, baby I'zes teasing".
" Horace, you and Meryl take it outside".
" Aww, Mama".........
Horace and Meryl take notice of Grandma's neck stiffening stance as she grabs the potholder to set the sweet potato casserole on.
A moment of silence here.............
Pies and cakes and banana pudding is threatening to fall off the breakfast table.
"Oh who done that Watergate salad, I love me some Watergate salad"?
"Think I'll put a bowl back now so is I won't miss it".
"She does that every year".
" Raised just like that bunch from the Forks".
Some smartass youngun had drawn a happy face in the cool whip on top of the pumpkin pie.
"Now thats funny, rat there".
" Taint near funny, I'mma dust some britches round here".
Grandma had added the extra leaf into the twelve chair dining table yesterday. She, in her wisdom gleaned from past Thanksgivings has added six more folding chairs to accommodate the old folks.
Saggy card tables are stacked in the hallway along with folding chairs that come out into the open as the family troops in for this once a year feast and airing of grievances.
The hugging and kissing and back slapping and explanations of why the missing family members aren't here this year is almost forgotten by the passing around of the newest baby. The baby is teething and cranky already. Strangers kissing and cheek pinching fill the infant with piercing screams while the preschoolers hold their hands over their tender little ears and whine,
"Ma...muah.......................".
Grandma refused to let anything on the stove burn or overcook.
Grandma is dead aim focused on her cooking.
Her least favorite in-law leans against the counter while bragging about all her Christmas presents being already wrapped.
Grandma tries to get her attention to please move on so as she can cook without worry of scalding somebody or searing a blister on an arm with the frying pan as she turns to look for a plate for the biscuits.
" Oh 'scuse me Mother, am I in your way"?
" If you have to ask that while I'm toting a pot of boiling collards, then yes, I'd say so".
" Harumph"!
The dining table starts to fill with casseroles and bowls of mystery food for the blessings of Thanksgiving.
Couches and recliners and Parson chairs and hassocks and beanbags fill the den and livingroom with hungry fat people. Some members have brought outsiders and unknowns to the feast.
Great Expectations!
A new bride of a fourth time married cousin is being introduced and explained about.
" Harumph, she won't be here next year either".
The young female family members compete for attention as the late comers come blustering in to announce themselves.
Leaning in and snapping fingers to get the others to notice without pointing,
" Psst" !
Pointing at the outsider...........
" Hey y'all, Tessa brought her green pea salad. D'you see her sneak it in ?"
"Bet she didn't make it, her Mama prolly made a double batch last night and gave her that little pint sized tupperware bowl to bring here".
" Tessa gonna eat green pea salad for lunch next week".
" Naw, the girls at Speedy Cash might, not Tessa, she gon be packing Grandma's leftovers".
" Can't tolerate that cow".
" Tessa just don't get it".
"If she asks to go Black Friday shopping with us, tell her we leaving at midnight...........".
"She ain't going in my truck, tell y'all now".
So above much loud talking and laughing and whisperings behind hands with gel nails, Grandma calls,
"Dinner Y'all".
As if a mighty wind passing through the gathered we rise to push and shove and gawk and point out and reshuffle to accommodate all the elderly and infirm. Grandma takes her place at the first chair on the left of the head chair. Uncle Bunk got dibs after Grandpa passed. Aunt Eula sits directly across from Grandma.
Uncle Bunk turns thanks and his tea at the same time.
" S'all right, I got it Mama".
That step cousin's son shoves aside Grandma's precious little kindergartner in trying to reach for a turkey drum.
Grandma scoots back her chair to hold up the turkey platter right under the nose of that failure and with a saccharin voice asks,
" Son, yon't a drum"?
The goof ball actually took it to be a compliment.
Before the dishes and platters can be politely passed around the table with some semblance of respectability the living room crowd lays atop the table sitters to dip and clamor in the dressing and dumplins and giblet gravy.
Cranberry sauce slips off onto Aunt Ravens new fall sweater leaving a stain that doesn't blend in well.
Aunt Raven, being the family fashionista, turns holly berry red above her neck veins.
Grandma swipes the sauce with her apron tail and pats her sister-in-law on the arm.
"Num,num,num...............Oh my goodness, that is the best yet Mama".
" Harumph, I ain't changed a thang".
Slowly we fill to swelling. The table empty's to the living room couches and recliners. Some leave their dignity aside to lay in the floor and fall asleep while the little kids play. "jump over the log" or sit straddle to bounce on Uncle Ardis' belly.
The hunters are sprawled on tailgates, cinderblocks, gallon buckets and bucked roots of the old magnolia tree to let their dinner settle. They all pack in Red Man or light up a smoke. One prissy one vapes as he picks up pecans.
Several silly high school girl cousins sporting torn knee jeans stuffed inside boots are preening about just hoping to get noticed.
Several camoflauge suits with orange caps are at the back of the garden shooting at Dr Pepper and a few Red Bull cans from off Grandmas fence.
"Hey, y'all know bout Grandma drinking Red Bull"?
"Grandma says it helps her move".
" What the hell"?
"Gonna be hell if she finds any left around y'all.
"We gon pick 'em up".
" Shore better".
"I got to be in my stand by 4:00".
" Yes, I'm outta here".
" Tell Grandma bye".
" You better tell her yourself after the drawing".
" Oh, crap"!
" I ain't gonna be here Christmas".
" Grandma ain't caring bout you, its about her Christmas tree looking loaded fer the young'uns".
Laughing and lying and bragging and snoring and belching and borrowing of all things antiacid takes us to the part of Thanksgiving for the drawing of names for Christmas.
Grandma brings her Christmas paper wrapped shoebox with the names for us to draw from.
To a one nobody's name was a secret in less than a minute. Faces scruntched and whispers were whispered behind hands.
Grandma puts her teeth in her apron pocket and gets sugar off the little ones as they scrunch up and wipe their faces.
Grandma is the happiest when she is with us and it shows in how she smiles with her mouth wide open with the newest baby snuggled on her bosom.
Grandma had two names left in the box and knew exactly who she needed to send them to so everybody would get a gift from under her tree.
Horace and Meryl always takes an early leave so as to avoid the obligations of name drawing and kitchen cleanup duties.
Grandma is back in the kitchen with a few faithful lady kin doing the prep of carryouts and restoring order.
Before everyone is out the door Uncle Bunk is mopping the kitchen floor.
Don't you just love Thanksgiving?
