Midnight Musings

Years ago, my family celebrated Thanksgiving without me. Not that my family is such a joyful, thankful group, mind you. It was just that I wasn't included for some reason. My family was always more about the food than the concept. The wonderful woman who worked for my grandmother was the best down-home cook anywhere, not to mention one of my favorite people in the whole world. I feel confident saying so even knowing there are millions of great cooks whose product I will never taste. The best fried chicken in the world (yes, there was turkey, but who cared when that chicken was on the table?), baked macaroni and cheese (not elbows and cheese sauce. This is the real thing that no one makes anymore - real chunks of cheddar, the browned bits being buttery and tangy enough to fight over), stuffing, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, homemade biscuits, canned jellied cranberry sauce for contrast, the ubiquitous side dishes that make me cringe just to think of them (especially those scary baby onions in cream sauce that no one thinks of putting on the table or in their mouths at any other time of year) and those amazing homemade pies. I wasn't allowed to have any (as if a slice once a year would kill me) but there was always a piece of pumpkin pie hidden away in the kitchen for me. So I was going to be deprived of the traditional annual deprivation and I was depressed. My significant other made a lovely spaghetti dinner for us that year. It's not quite as depressing as it sounds because the man made a mean spaghetti sauce, full of fresh mushrooms and garlic and ground beef and I did have much to be thankful for. But it was sad. This year topped it by far. I drove almost five hours (I hate driving with a passion, by the way) to a home whose owner passed away last month. She was a lovely woman who knew what Thanksgiving was about and the food, though always good, was almost incidental to the company. We sat at her table among her things and talked about things other than her. There was talk about who was going to get what. There was talk about our being the last guests to stay in the house before it's sold. We were thankful to have the place for as long as they did, thankful to have known her and for the wherewithal to meet and food to eat, but it was the saddest Thanksgiving ever. Her ashes were sprinkled on the property. And then I got to drive the five hours home. I hope our presence served some purpose for the others in attendance and that they know what they have to be thankful for. I am going to heaven when I die and I hope that's where she is. All these loose ends left and properties to divide is so...mercenary. I'm just glad to be home and know I have that home, a job, minimal debt, a car and people who love me. And hopefully nothing to fight over when I'm gone. 'night.