Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone again. I had a hard time wrapping my head around it this year. See, Thanksgiving was always my mom’s favorite holiday, so it’s not the same without her fussing around the kitchen, getting everything just right. It’s been fifteen years since she passed, and lately I’ve been really missing her. Don’t know why. Maybe because dad’s pushing 87 and fading. He’s still with us, sure, but his world is getting 
smaller by the day and with it, his interest in, well, life, too. He’s no longer the guy with the stories and the quick come back at the table.
To be honest, nowadays Thanksgiving just seems like a problem to be solved. You know, where are we having it? Who’s bringing what? Who’s picking up dad and who’s bringing him home after? Doing the higher math of Big Meat: a 20 pound turkey at 350 degrees = how many hours of cooking time?
I’m not alone here. I know because I work as a cashier down to the A&P, so I’m on the frontlines of holiday stress. I see one middle-aged women after another with shopping cart brimming, clutching her shopping list, eyeing that big bottle of wine (or two) and thinking, just wait ‘til I get you home, buddy!
But every now and then, I’ll see a relaxed, middle-aged woman. Trust me, they stand out. And I already know what’s going on. Just to be sure, I’ll ask her. “All ready for Thanksgiving?”
“Yup. Going to my daughter’s, so all I need to bring is a couple of pies.”
“Ahh, feels good to pass the mantle, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, you have no idea!”
My favorite part of Thanksgiving? Cooking with my sister Irene. We shoo everyone out of the kitchen so we can chop and peel in peace. Irene and me have a comfortable rhythm, chatting, laughing, and getting it done. Putting Post-its on the dishes so we don’t forget anything, just like our mom used to.
My least favorite part of the ritual is the rush at the end of cooking. No matter how prepared you are, once that bird’s out of the oven, it’s a race to the finish line, all hands on deck. Jimbo carves the turkey, Irene makes gravy, I mash the potatoes. Veggies that were cooked earlier are microwaved by whoever’s handy. Someone light the candles, and don’t forget the rolls!
We all sit down, and once that one person who goes to the bathroom at the last minute joins us, dad says grace and Irene and me get a little teary. The food is delicious, of course, and we all eat way too much, and then ask what’s for dessert.
And like every year, I’m filled with such gratitude for those I love: the ones sitting at the table and the ones who are no longer here, but present nonetheless. We give thanks, and pass the potatoes. And I remember why mom liked Thanksgiving best, “It’s all about food, family, and friends,” she’d say. I miss you, mom, but trust me: you are not forgotten.
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Here Ida Tell It: Thanksgiving
Last Performance of 2019 This Week
December 4: How Ida Changed My Life: The Power of an Alter-Ego with Susan Poulin, Free Lecture Series, , 7:00pm, Kittery Community Center, Kittery, ME
2020
February 29: Makin’ Whoopie!, Franklin Opera House, 7:30pm, Franklin, NH
May 13: Book Reading, Windham Public Library, 6:00pm, Windham, ME
May 14, Book Reading, Wiggin Memorial Library, 6:00pm, Stratham, NH
Special Event
December 13 & 14: Gordon Carlisle Open Studio, 111 Fore Rd., Friday 5:30 -8:30, Saturday 11:00-3:00, or by appointment , Eliot, ME For more info email Gordon at info@gordoncarlisle.com or call 603.431.3639.