When I was a young girl growing up holidays were EVERYTHING. I remember the smells. I remember the sounds. I remember the essence. I remember the very spirit of holidays. I grew up in a small family, that consisted of my mother, my father and my little sister. But our holidays were never small and hardly ever quiet but almost always included two stops.
Our first stop was usually to my paternal grandparents, Poppy and Granny McClair’s house. My grandparents had a total of seven biological children and countless, “bonus children,” whether they were nieces, nephews, neighbors or church friends. Plus, more grandchildren than I can count. If I were to guesstimate I would say 20+ grandchildren, but my sister and I were the youngest of the bunch. The position of the youngest grandchildren on the family tree granted us a seat at the “grown up” table in our Sunday dresses; separated on different sides of the table, only to glare & possibly giggle at each other. Thanksgiving Dinner started with what I am sure was a 20 minute prayer… then we could finally eat. My grandmother would prepare an amazing “soulful” dinner. While we ate, the adults in my life mingled, laughed, joked and talked (at times very loudly) over dinner. While my older cousins were stationed in the kitchen having their own conversations and fun.
An argument may ensue by one of my uncles or possibly my Dad, over a dessert, what was perceived the last homemade yeast roll or possibly the interpretation of a bible verse or two. The front porch was the ‘chill out’ zone. But the very moment my Grandmother took one of her homemade sweet potato pies out of “the pantry” (that housed probably 2 dozen desserts, and many extra homemade yeast rolls) it was all love again! Not one time did anyone ever leave angry but definitely full. After finishing what felt like a 7 course meal; while hearing faint sounds of Mahalia Jackson and Shirley Caesar playing throughout the house we were off. Our next stop was to my maternal Grandmother’s house for yet another Thanksgiving feast.
Granny Anthony’s was the kid-friendly house… seldom any big rules! 😉 My Grandmother would prepare an amazing “heartful” meal; totally on a different spectrum and taste from Granny McClair… but equally as amazing. After pictures, we soon stripped out of our Sunday best and wore our Aunt’s tank tops with leggings. We ate on the living room floor, on top of newspaper with cousins. Played in high heels, wigs and makeup. Most times our favorite ‘imagination sparked’ game “Girl” was sure to be played.
There was always music… not Mahalia Jackson or Shirley Caesar. I’m talking Chaka Khan, Earth, Wind & Fire, The Isley Brothers… a true party going on. And it was POP. All the Faygo & Pepsi a kid that wasn’t allowed to drink pop on a regular day could ever imagine & long for. My maternal Grandmother had six children, and countless “bonus children” that were nieces, nephews, neighbors and friends. Not as many grandchildren but it was a good 6-8 of us at a given time… and that was enough to have a real good time! There was yelling, talking and very loud laughter and dancing. An argument may ensue by one of my much older Cousins, my Uncle or possibly my Aunt, over an old dance, what was perceived to be an insult or possibly the interpretation of the wrong song author or the year a song was released. The upstairs back room was the “chill out” zone. Not one time did anyone ever leave angry but definitely full. Now fast forward a decade or two and that’s when it hit… Just like that it was over! When my paternal Grandparents passed away, many of the large family traditions left with them. Everyone seemed to play an unmentioned game of four corners. Where we all split in our mutual corners with a few family members; usually from our immediate families. Sadly, without many words some dissension had taken place. On my maternal side, many traditions stayed alive and well. I had just started a family of my own but loved being the family event planner. Setting up the menu, keeping track of everyone’s meal contributions and duties; ultimately organizing for us to all meet at Granny’s. Boy did we have fun!!! Then it hit AGAIN… Just like that it was over!
With my Granny moving away from the family house, then the passing of key family members including my Aunt… things changed. Once again, everyone played an unmentioned game of monkey in the middle this time. Splitting into two sides with a select few family members; usually from our immediate families. Sadly, with a few words some dissension had taken place yet again. And just like that… there has never been another Thanksgiving quite the same. 😢
I cry as I write this because not so long ago the Thanksgiving holiday meant something so entirely different to me. I cry for what memories we can no longer make. I cry for the loved ones we have lost and the sparkling and all encompassing personalities they took with them. I mourn the days that were filled with so much love that opposition could not begin to penetrate. I am troubled by some of the decisions the family elders, which I felt should have carried the torch, but they decided to leave it along the way. I am saddened that little disagreements have grown into mountains. It is disheartening to know the betrayal that some feel by each other. Especially when family should feel safe. (with a lump in my throat) It hit me this year… I. Will. Never. Have. Another. Holiday. Like. I. Had. Growing. Up.
My Thursday will not be full of a house of lots of mismatch but somehow similiar people. My Thursday will not have the noise of what sounds like 1000+ people… that “deeply” love me, coming together to create memories. Two of my Grandparents are resting. My only living Grandparent, “The Granny” is no longer able to cook and mingle the same. The fun and laughter of my Aunts, Uncles, and multiple cousins have been silenced on earth and now only play in my mind. All things and people I will always desperately miss. Things have so changed. BUT, I don’t have to let it change me for the bad… I can remain positive and be thankful for the strong foundation my Husband and I have built. Knowing that our children will grow up with different memories than myself BUT they will grow up having their own distinct memories of Thanksgiving. On Wednesday, we will order pizza for dinner to eliminate the need to cook while we are food prepping. Thursday, I will awake early and pray over my food as I cook, just as I am sure Granny Anthony and Granny McClair did. My grandmothers knew that food was healing for the family and I’ve learned that too. I will ask that The Lord allows our food to bless my family (and our Bonus children that we feed) in ways I can not see. I will ask that it comforts each of us in ways we don’t know we need to be comforted. I will ask that a little part of each of my family members will be present inside of me. I will ask that our foundation remain strong as we walk this walk that is not so easy at times. On Thursday, Charles and I will turn on 90’s music, mixed with praise and worship and current R&B intertwined… blending both sides of my world. We will begin cooking and talking. We will laugh. Our children will eat leftover pizza for breakfast and bickering will begin while they play Super Mario Brothers 3D World. So no… I will not have one of those Thanksgiving celebrations that I mentioned above. But I will have just as meaningful of a day. I will enjoy spending time with my Husband, our children, my parents and my sister; all over food, fun and games. Never forgetting the amazing memories I have of the extended family I was blessed with… whether they have graduated this life or we are in our own new spaces, creating memories apart. Just like that… we will have a proper Thanksgiving.
Before I end, please know I am sensitive to any readers that may have recently been left with a totally different Thanksgiving scenario than you are accustomed to. Before you commit to having a “not-so-great-day,” I challenge you to readjust your stance and make the most of it. Life changes. Memories get rearranged. You are still here for a purpose. Let your light so shine! Holidays don’t need to be the same to make them just as memorable. Through tears I have readjusted my position. So as for me and my house, we will create new memories, new traditions and we will laugh. I hope you all laugh too. Happy Thanksgiving!!!
#CherishTheMemories
#CherishTheFun
Exclusively SNW 
Know the feeling. Same happened when my mom passed. But we do try to get together as much as possible. Love family!
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One of the best blogs Ive ever read…Please keep writing!🙏
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