Four days before Thanksgiving. 35,000 feet high. Almost 2000 miles from home. No, I won't be home for Thanksgiving this year. I'm headed to SF for two days of all day meetings, then up to Seattle to spend Turkey Day (Frank's favorite holiday?) with S's family. Flying to Thanksgiving, wherever it is always reminds me of the movie Home for the Holidays (which, of course, kept me entertained on the plane today. LOVE the scene where Holly Hunter's parents pick her up at the airport and as they're sitting in traffic she catches the eye of some other 35 year old "kid" whose parents just picked him up and is being tormented by his family in the adjacent car).
Last year, S had her ankle surgery so traveling was out of the question. Even to CT. So that means I've missed two Thanksgivings in a row with my family. And like every family's holidays, ours are always a bit crazy/stressful/fun/hysterical/loud.
The first time I took S to Thanksgiving at my house, she asked what to expect. Nothing unusual. We eat. A lot.
- First there's Holiday Soup.
- Then there's lasagne.
- Then there's turkey with all the usual extras (including my mother's overcooked veggies. ;-) Hey mom, getting tired of me picking on those yet?)
- Then fruit.
- Then dessert.
- Then more nuts and fruits.
- Then more turkey sandwiches.
- Rinse and repeat.
"And then we get to watch football?" asked S.
"Huh. Well, yeah, I guess. Not really. We kinda just sit around the table."
"Sure. But then what?"
"Huh? Then what what? We go to bed, I guess."
"At 4pm?"
"What?......I'm missing something."
"Uh...what time do you finish dinner?"
"Well, all is probably said and done by 11pm."
"You mean you SIT at the table from 1 until 11pm?!?!?!?!?"
Yeah, we do. And just for that, my dad made her sit next to Aunt Mary that first Thanksgiving. And THAT'S a whole other story.
Happy Thanksgiving! I miss you guys at home. Save some apple pie for me!
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