Making It Up As I Go Along #239 story

A bit of a short commentary on things. A weekend of mom and dad is good but it doesn’t make for lots of writing opportunities. So I’ll get back to a more regular thing next week and be somewhat brief with this week’s story…

Thanksgiving
What makes Thanksgiving? Family for sure. I think I could go through a Thanksgiving weekend without family. It’s not like there’d have to be a suicide watch or something like that. But having family around makes it all the better.

I may not say much when they’re around and living in my space with two other people does take getting used to (since I’m alone in this space 90% of the time) but it’s a solid feeling not to have to be speaking and, in a world where interactions come with limits, it’s good to not worry about the things I say.

Leaves. A week before mom and dad arrived, the leaves began to change colour. And with the parents here, the sun shone down and the multicoloured world began to glow around us.

Of course, mom made it her mission to search out red leaves. Anything red had to be photographed. Small bushes of red would gain her attention while great forests of gold were viewed with a shrug.

Fleeces. You know when Thanksgiving is here when you can wear a fleece comfortably. Canada may be all about hockey and Tim Horton’s coffee but nothing feels more Canadian than wearing a fleece while walking through a multicoloured forest.

Turkey. It is a family tradition to eat turkey. And I know everyone eats turkey at Thanksgiving but my mother’s family goes insane on the bird. Twenty-five pound birds feed two or three people. Great mounds of Turkey carcass sit after a meal… a sign of the meals for the coming four or five days.

Naps in front of football games. It happened again this year. Me in the chair and dad laid out on the sofa. Bits of commentator dialogue reach us like a distant foghorn. It can be heard but it’s almost more a figment of imagination than an audible sound.

And when the room darkens around us, I wake, check the score… become disgusted with what I see… and tell dad to wake up and turn the channel. I walk away and see what mom is doing while dad leaves the soothing drone on as he snoozes some more.

Back home it was all about the smells. Going to my parent’s house to have a warm house wafting with aromas. And when the evening was over, I’d return to my own place and carry buckets full of leftovers.

Now it’s a gathering at my place. Bacon and coffee greet me when I go down the stairs (not that the smell of coffee does anything for me). Where Uncles Wayne and Wince would see me back home, Uncle Bill comes around here in Ottawa. And evenings are quite in my living room. A movie or some episodes of Fawlty Towers on DVD. And my parents starting to drift off prior to bedtime.

Thanksgiving is a combination of sightseeing, walking, eating and relaxing with family. In Newfoundland or Ottawa, it’s a holiday that’s all about togetherness.