Thanksgiving has grown on me the older I get. When I was younger it was just the holiday to get through until Christmas. It meant spending the day with relatives, some I liked, some I didn't know very well and some I was happy I didn't have to see again until Christmas. (Any relative I've accepted as a friend on facebook, you were in the first category.) Also as a child I anticipated Thanksgiving's passing because Dad wouldn't let us play Christmas music until after Thanksgiving. Our family tradition also included getting our tree soon after the turkey holiday.
My first Thanksgiving away from home was my first year at BYU. A friend from home invited me to Thanksgiving with her sister and all her sister's in-laws. I brought rolls, that didn't rise right. It was okay, I'm a people person, but again just a break before heading home at Christmas.
The next year I was engaged, but I'd promised to spend the holiday with my Grandma May in St. George. Just the two of us. I couldn't let her have Thanksgiving alone, but I also wished I wasn't leaving Mike. We were that sappy, all over each other, annoying engaged couple. Grandma drove to Provo to pick me up Wednesday. We drove to St. George that night. The next day we had planned to spend with the other retirees in the clubhouse at the trailer park. However, I think after a phone call from my Aunt Cynde, we decided to drive to Tucson. I was born in Tucson, but had never been there. My parents moved to Washington state soon after I was born. Tucson was where my dad grew up. It was the place of his childhood stories. My mom had lived there for a short time after they were married. Being a girl from Tacoma, Washington, she had hated it. I was curious about my birthplace and their conflicting opinions.
Early Thanksgiving morning Grandma May and I hopped in the car. We started our drive from St. George, Utah to Tucson, Arizona to visit Aunt Cynde. We drove for hours. Google says it should take between 10 and 11 hours. I don't remember anymore how long it took. I do remember thinking that it seemed that we were taking all the back roads and that it was the first time I saw Las Vegas. Grandma wouldn't let me drive over the speed limit. She made me set the cruise control at 55 mph. When we finally arrived in Tucson we stayed for an hour. Yep, a whole hour. Then we got in the car and drove back to St. George. That was one of the craziest, most memorable trips I've ever taken.
Thanksgiving 1993 will always be memorable. It was the first Thanksgiving after my dad died. He died in October of that year from cancer. My mom and my three younger sisters flew in to Las Vegas and drove to St. George. Mike and I drove from Provo and my aunt Cynde's family arrived from Tucson. We met at Grandma May's trailer. We didn't all fit, so some of us stayed at grandma's friend's trailer. Her friend was out of town. Mike and I were assigned the other trailer along with my sisters. We spent the night playing games and searching for an open store in the middle of the night. We found a gas station open and bought the hardest Red Vines I have ever tried to eat. The next day we gathered with my dad's family who we hadn't met very many times and enjoyed each others company. My father's Native American foster sister even arrived with her family. I remember wishing it hadn't taken his death to bring us together.
Once my children started school a new tradition emerged. Waterford, the school I teach at and my children attend, has Grandparent's Day every year right before Thanksgiving break. Grandparent's Day is a half day when grandparents are invited to attend school with their grandchildren. My mom wanted to participate so she started coming to visit us every Thanksgiving. She's here right now and we look forward to her visit.
I've started to enjoy Thanksgiving more with age for a couple of reasons. First, as a teacher I get a break. Next, it's a fairly easy going holiday. I've only attempted to host it at my house twice, I think. I didn't volunteer easily. Usually we go to my in-laws, my mom included and take our assigned piece of the meal. I do little cooking, get to spend the day with family eating, watching football and playing games and I get several days off work. What's not to like?
Thanksgiving isn't my favorite holiday, but I don't dislike it. It's a simple holiday and simple is good sometimes. I don't mind Thanksgiving at all, it's just fine.
