Commentary: Reflections on two different Thanksgivings
by Constance Berneking, posted Nov. 25, 2008
Turkey’s in the oven, football’s on TV and the entire family is waiting in anticipation for the cook to call everyone into the dining room. When they all finally make their way to the table, everyone bows his or her head and after the prayer the eating commences. Each dish is passed quickly around the table. At the end of the meal they all take their turns telling what they are thankful for: the typical Thanksgiving.
In my experience, holidays are far from typical. I spend the Thanksgiving holiday in two very different environments. My mother, Nancy, is the youngest of ten children and my father, Bart, has just one sibling. One home overflows with people, and the other is an intimate gathering. On two tables sit similar food: turkey, stuffing and yams, but different people surround them. One table isn’t really a table at all, it is a huge buffet line filled with many dishes and trays of food. The other is a simple feast made for eight.
At my mom’s Thanksgiving, as soon as the front door is opened to the host’s home, sound radiates from within the house. The host of the dinner alternates among the ten kids each year. Each sister brings her favorite dish to add to the meal, and the men bring their favorite beverages. Every square foot of the house is filled. The women fill the kitchen trying to help prepare the meal. The men gather around the pool table or TV. Cousins around my age wander from room to room too old to play and too young to drink beer with the men or cook the meal with the ladies. The young boys and girls sit on their parents’ laps or play in the great room.
When the food is ready, “Time to Eat!” echoes throughout the house. A long buffet line forms, and people take their plates to various open seats all over the house. The official number of people is never known. People come and go or show up late. After the meal, the party doesn’t end. Drinks are poured, and music is played until late into the night.
A different scene is found at the Berneking Thanksgiving. Every year my dad’s side gathers at my grandparents’ house later in the afternoon. We greet grandma and grandpa with a hug and hello, as always. My mom and I try unsuccessfully to help my grandma with the meal. My dad cuts the turkey with an ancient electric knife, and my grandmother always complains he cuts wrong, too thick or thin. The rest of the family are scattered across the living room watching random television shows and fighting over the remote.
Besides my grandparents, a small group sits at the table. My dad, sister and I, and my Uncle David, Aunt Paula and their sons Bret and Palmer are the only guests. When the meal is ready, our family gathers in the kitchen and joins hands, and someone says the blessing. After grace, we make a line around the small buffet table and take our spot at the dining table. No one can eat until everyone is seated.
After dinner, grandma has a turkey day-themed game, puzzle or quiz for us to play. It is hard to decide which gathering I like the most. At my mom’s there is never a dull moment, and the celebration goes all night. It is a time where I get to see relatives I haven’t seen all year. At my dad’s, the meal is traditional and predictable. Being with his side reminds me of my childhood. They both have moments that I really enjoy.
In all I love everything about Thanksgiving: the food, the people and the memories.
