Our Thanksgiving memories

While I will give thanks for family and friends tomorrow and for our special life in New York City, Thanksgiving is not a holiday I remember in the traditional sense.

I’m sure as a young child we must have spent the holiday with my grandparents Pop and Honey since we lived next door to them, but I have no memories of those days.  My holiday memories with them are all focused around Christmas. By the time I was around 11 or 12 my brothers were serving in the military, married and/or on their own – and they didn’t typically come home for the holiday either.

My first real memories of Thanksgiving – interestingly enough – are when we went to Disney World for the first time in November of 1971, seven weeks after the theme park opened its doors in Orlando. Several families – the Rogers, Martins, Beards and us – stayed at the Polynesian Hotel that Thanksgiving, finding a lot of the hotel still under construction (that became apparent when checking in we noticed several of the rooms still didn’t have locks on the doors). The cost of a room in the Polynesian in 1971: about $25.

Disney World's Crystal Palace

I don’t remember if we ate Thanksgiving dinner at the Crystal Palace at the end of Main Street on the way to Adventureland, or the restaurant in the Polynesian Hotel’s Grand Ceremonial House. Wouldn’t have really mattered, Disney World’s early food was nothing to write home about. The Crystal Palace featured a Morrison’s-type cafeteria line with the greenest, crunchiest peas I’ve ever seen; turkey, dressing and mashed potatoes with a non-descript gravy; and crystal goblets full of shimmering lime-green Jell-O.

My Daddy fell in love with Disney World that first visit and our family spent at least the next nine Thanksgivings (including the four while I was in college at WKU) in the park. We’d typically spend 3-4 days in Orlando, then head to Ft. Myers Beach (or Treasure Island) for another 3-4 days. I honestly believe I didn’t miss a year visiting Disney World until after I married.

Once Larry and I married, we started creating our own Thanksgiving memories in Gainesville. Most of you know I love to cook so you can imagine we began collecting recipes for our own turkey-day traditions – the meal eventually evolved into a feast that featured an herb butter-roasted turkey, dressing, gravy, sweet potato casserole, a traditional green bean casserole, mashed potatoes (Larry always complained that we had to have both potatoes represented, but it’s not Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes), pecan pie and pumpkin bread.

Jenni got these for us from Publix when she worked there

Most years, my parents would join us for Thanksgiving in Gainesville and those years when the girls were young are among my most memorable. As the girls grew and started participating in extracurricular activities, and Larry began doing more and more play-by-play for Gator football and basketball (both of which were usually on the schedule for that week) we’d often find at least one empty chair at Thanksgiving. After my Daddy died in 2001, we made certain my Mommy joined us for the holiday.

These days, I still start planning for our Thanksgiving dinner weeks in advance, but now it’s even more likely that one of us will be missing. This year, Jenni is living and working in South Sudan so we’ll miss her around the table (and I’ll miss her help in the kitchen). We’ll join Dana and Nate tomorrow morning to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade over brunch, and then we’ll celebrate Thanksgiving dinner on Friday this year because of work conflicts.

While Thanksgiving brunch remains the same this year (three-cheese egg casserole, bacon, and brie bites), we’re mixing-up dinner a bit - serving ham instead of turkey, but my sweet potato casserole and Nate’s green bean casserole will still grace the table. The pumpkin bread is already made (and being consumed) and these days, we pass on the pie.

So, come Friday, we’ll pop open a bottle of bubbly (followed by a bottle or two of a nice light red), sit around a tiny table in Dana and Nate’s apartment, and give thanks – thanks that even though we may not all be in the same place this year and our dear Mama Doris and Daddy Quent are gone, our years of Thanksgiving memories are strong, and that they help sustain us and remind us of the love we share. So, Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours.