Let's Talk Turkey This Week

I realized something this weekend.

I was grocery shopping, yet again. I hauled out the cart filled to the top with groceries and The Little Miss to The Mr.'s car. I opened the trunk and found it full.

That was when I found myself grumbling, about the full trunk. After I rearranged all the life jackets and stuffed in all the groceries, I began to think. For about 10 years now, I've been opening the back of all different assorted vehicles and finding it full on grocery day.

The funny part is, there are only two things that fill our trunks around here. Life jackets, because you just never know when you'll be able to get on a boat, and strollers.

That was when it hit me. I've had a stroller in the trunk of my car for 10 years now.

And in the spirit of Thanksgiving week, I'm indeed thankful for that full trunk, and for having a trunk and for having the "problem" of where to put the groceries. I'm thankful for the traffic on the way home and the high price of gas, and the money The Mr. makes so I can fill the tank. I'm thankful for the kids that protest the grocery shopping chore and the multitude of choices in the aisles that they whine over.

I had one other thought while I was jamming food into the trunk of the car and struggling to lift the turkey. It was about the holiday. See, I've been the holiday hostess for a while now, I think since 1998. Some years I've looked forward to every second of it. Some years I just wanted to get it done.

While in the grocery store, I was struck by how many older and truly elderly couples were in the store gathering the goodies to make the Thanksgiving meal. Clearly the relative that hosts the event. It made me wonder, what will it be like for me one day. Will I be the hostess into my old age? Will my grown children return with their children to my house for the meal? Will that be the tradition?

It was my tradition until 1998. Almost always, we went to my grandma's house. All my relatives came and that was that. Generally no one missed it, and when someone did, there were almost always some tears shed over it. Every year there was conversation about the green log dish. There was cheese and crackers, drinks and cards. There were men asleep in front of the TV and fireplace. There were dogs and kids.

Two houses and two kids later, it is still happening at my house. There have been some glitches, to be sure. I'm kind of a young hostess and with kids underfoot, but there are still kids and dogs. There are still men in front of the TV and fireplace. No one has talked of the green dish in years. Sometimes the menu has been radically different to accommodate my kids diet. Sometimes that affected the guest list. Oh well. A tradition is not built in a year, but in a lifetime and in a family.