I’m heading off this morning for a visit home for Thanksgiving with my parents and my older brother and his wife. I’m trying to remember the last time that I celebrated this particular holiday with my family in my hometown of Perrysburg, and I think it must be at least thirty years or more. Since then I’ve lived in a lot of different places — Indiana, Colorado, Michigan, New Mexico, and Florida — and I’ve usually been able to find a place to celebrate the holiday (and watch the Lions get their butts kicked) with friends or the extended family. I especially remember the massive feasts Allen’s family would do when we lived in Longmont, Colorado, and when we then moved to Michigan we’d travel the 100 miles from Petoskey to Northport for dinner with my parents. We had our first Thanksgiving in New Mexico with my parents who traveled out there to visit our relatives in Santa Fe, and from then on we either did it ourselves or accepted invitations from friends for the traditional New Mexico Thanksgiving dinner that included the traditional turkey but added the spices and chiles of the land. Here in Florida I’ve been the guest of friends and my extended family as well and discovered that there are many ways to enjoy a turkey dinner in the tropics.
This year we’re going back to the old traditions of the big dinner at the little club our family has belonged to in Perrysburg since 1957. We’ll have the dinner in the big dining room with lots of other families — new generations and new friends, too — and then get together with more friends later. The Lions are playing the New England Patriots, so we’ll watch the game from the comfort of home instead of bundling up to sit in the bleachers of the old Tiger Stadium like we used to when we had season tickets. The one advantage of that arrangement was knowing we had a nice hot meal waiting for us when we got home… and we weren’t subjected to endless Christmas-themed car commercials.
Anyway, I’ll see you when I get there.