Memories of Thanksgivings Past

In general, I've never been really into Thanksgiving. I always loved seeing my family, but it was always more of a transition holiday. A layover until Christmas. The great thing, though, is that it never stopped me from having some great times and creating lasting memories.

Thanksgiving was the beginning of travel time for me. We progressively lived further and further away, so I always looked forward to taking the "super long" 4 hour plane ride from Atlanta to LAX, usually with a goldfish in a plastic container with a pink lid as my carryon. My grandparents have lived in their house my entire life. The 90's holiday seasons were a great time, when we turned the TV channel with pliers. When every square inch of every room (except Grandma and Grandpa's) would be covered by a sleeping child or grandchild. It was during these times when my cousin taught me how to say "specific". It was the place where I'd gathered up the courage to jump the two steps from the porch to the ground. Where my cousins and I took turns on Grandma's new computer, usually just to play Sonic the Hedgehog or a Street Fighter-esque game. I seriously love that place.

One thing I've always remembered quite distinctly about my grandparent's home (aside from seeing if the Christmas lights were still up from the last Christmas) was the one bathroom. That one bathroom was the bane of my existence during Thanksgiving Day for obvious reasons. This was the time where I learned how long I could hold my breath. Spoiler alert: it wasn't long enough. I learned pretty quickly to do my best to get to the bathroom first, and if I couldn't, to channel my inner Sonic the Hedgehog and run.

I've been on this Earth for almost 31 Thanksgivings so far, and I'm pretty sure I've known for 25 of those that I don't like Thanksgiving food. This holiday is where my hatred for my food touching began. I would always get seriously ticked off if the juice from a food (that I never wanted in the first place) touched my turkey or, worst of all, my bread. I'd be ready to throw the whole plate away, fork and all! I distinctly remember being about 8 or 9 with this juicy plate of food that I was never going to eat, thinking about how I couldn't wait to be an adult so I could decide what foods I got, and I could make sure the juice of NOTHING touched my bread ever again. CHILDHOOD DREAM ACCOMPLISHED. This is also where my love for non traditional Thanksgiving meals began. The first year when my mom realized that making a traditional Thanksgiving meal would be a waste of her time and money, and she made me catfish instead was the best.

I don't remember ever eating Thanksgiving dinner around the table. The table held the food. The youngest of us would sit on the floor, the teenagers and adults on the couches and chairs. All of us talking and half watching the TV. NO ONE but Grandpa would be in his personal TV room. In retrospect, that's probably why I prefer to sit alone in front of a TV with my Thanksgiving meal to this day. When I was a teenager and it was just my mom and I for Thanksgiving, the day always went the same: make food, go in separate rooms to work/relax, then going to the movies together. That sounds jarring to some people, but as a loner born into a long line of loners, so it was always great.

Overall while Thanksgiving isn't my favorite holiday, it was the time in my childhood that made an indelible impression on the woman I am today. That alone is enough to be eternally grateful for.

Happy Thanksgiving!