Surviving Thanksgiving: What I’ve Learned to Value Most This Time of Year

Thanksgiving never meant a whole lot to me growing up.

Coming from a fractured home life and a broken family, holidays just weren’t a big deal. As a result, I entered my adult years lacking a treasure trove of memories to draw on to make them special for my own little family.My boys would bring little paper turkeys home from school that they had traced from their tiny hands and cardboard pilgrim puppets that had either lost a glued-on eye or been smashed when they shoved them in their backpacks.

To me, every bent and crinkled offering was a priceless work of art that I proudly displayed around the house. I lovingly hand-cut colored paper feathers for us to write what we were thankful for on. Then, I would proudly arrange them on the gigantic turkey I had constructed and affixed to the front door.

As Thanksgiving Day crept closer and it was time to plan the traditional meal, my mood went from festive to full-blown panic attack.

(Want to make a “thankful turkey” with your family? Here is a free printable I found!)

Thanksgiving Dinner: Panic Sets In

It wasn’t too much pressure when the kids were younger. We lived in a big city close to Los Angeles, California with a large community of friends. Our family was always invited to share Thanksgiving dinner at one of their houses. We could just contribute a side dish and a dessert and call it a day.

This comfortable annual fallback came to a halt when, during the kids’ early elementary school years, we moved to a small desert community. Far from our support network, my little family of five was now on its own for the holidays. Suddenly, my children and husband looked to me to orchestrate our Felty Tribe Thanksgiving feast.Oh, they would help, they assured me. But I was the true project manager for the undertaking. Having never really had a mother to teach me to cook or share recipes with me in my formative years, I was starting with a blank slate. Consequently, anxiety set in. I was out of my element. Browsing Pinterest for inspiration was not an option for me in the late 1990s.

“Maybe Andy could start dropping hints at work that we’re alone for Thanksgiving and someone will invite us over,” I plotted. (Pathetic, I know, but I was feeling a bit desperate.)

Meanwhile, time was running out. “Hey,” I considered, “doesn’t the local grocery store sell a whole Thanksgiving meal already cooked that we can just pick up and bring home?”

Abandoning “Plan B”: Time to Face the Challenge

I was all ready to put “Plan B” into motion when guilt set in. “Every other mother in America cooks Thanksgiving dinner for her family”, I agonized. (We all know that isn’t true, but I have a very active imagination.) Finally, I resolved to take on the task. My little brood looked to me to set the tone for our family Thanksgiving traditions in years to come. My grandchildren and great-grandchildren would be carrying on the legacy of my performance on this holiday. At least, that’s what I believed at that point.Bravely, I looked up recipes for traditional Thanksgiving foods in my small cookbook collection. I agonized over how big a turkey one buys for a family of five. Determined to make it special, I decided to make dinner rolls from scratch instead of store-bought ones. I was going to do this meal right.

Armed with carefully-written notes and my husband as my assistant chef, we set out early on Thanksgiving morning to prepare the feast. Bread was set to rise. Cranberry sauce sat chilling in the refrigerator. My confidence grew.

I was almost positive that Martha Stewart would have been proud of my efforts.

My husband helped me prepare the turkey and we poked in the little plastic popper to tell us when it was done. (Using a meat thermometer wasn’t part of my culinary repertoire at this point – don’t tell Martha…) It was then that I discovered that I didn’t have a pan large enough to put the turkey in! Praying that a store was open on Thanksgiving Day, I sent my “assistant” to the grocery store to hunt for a disposable pan.

Creating Thanksgiving Memories With My Family

I don’t remember how the meal turned out that Thanksgiving, or the year after that. But somewhere along the way, we molded our own annual Felty traditions. We started using our Christmas plates for Thanksgiving and used them for all meals until Christmas.

Before saying grace over the meal, we gave everyone at the table a small glass of Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider. Everyone took turns saying what they were thankful for that year. When everyone had finished sharing, my husband led us in prayer and we drank our toast. After that, it was, “Pass the potatoes!”

Many Thanksgivings have passed since then. We rarely forget the turkey pan now. I buy rolls instead of making them from scratch because I value time with family over slaving in the kitchen. I’m now the proud owner of a meat thermometer, but still prefer the fun poppers for my turkey. There’s a childlike anticipation in checking for that little red dot to pop up!

There were a few Thanksgivings we spent at Children’s Hospital in San Diego, California as our middle child wrestled with leukemia. The families at the hospital just surrounded one another with love during those seasons and pulled each other through.

I admit that I’ve had my share of lumpy gravy and pies that I forgot to put sugar in. I still cringe about the year we invited an elderly gentleman over because he was alone for Thanksgiving. We almost killed him with a turkey bone he pulled out of his first bite of meat!

Passing Down the Legacy

I’ve made my peace with Thanksgiving.

As the kids grew older, we welcomed all their teenage friends to the table and added plates when our neighbors dropped by. We included them in our “thankful” toast tradition and I found myself buying more bottles of apple cider every year.My little brood is all grown now. The little paper turkeys are lovingly preserved in plastic page protectors. I have my own holiday recipes lovingly written on recipe cards to share with my daughter someday.

When my boys come home with their families, they banter with their sister and grab samples of food when I’m not looking.

My daughter has taken over the honor of pouring the apple cider in the glasses and it takes a bit longer to say what we are thankful for at the table now that we have a growing family.

In recent years, we also added the tradition of wearing funny Christmas shirts on Thanksgiving Day.

This year, I will look around the table with an unbridled love for all these faces that add to the memories I now have of Thanksgiving. Each year is a precious gem I add to my “treasure trove” of memories that I will someday pass down to my little Felty Tribe.

Happy Thanksgiving! (It’s time to go check the turkey popper! Lol!)