Homesick only on one day a year

It used to be that Thanksgiving was the only day that I was homesick. The trip to Aunt Millie's, Eva's sweet and sour meatballs made with grapelade and ketchup, stuffed mushrooms, the smell of turkey roasting, etc. For once women didn't mind gathering in the kitchen as the men watched television.

Then for years Thanksgiving was just another day. There was the special one, where I said to the young woman I worked with that I was homesick that day. The next day she arrived at work with a pumpkin pie her mother had baked to make me feel better.

Then a few years ago we started having Thanksgiving. The first two years, J and I made the bird inviting Americans and those that liked the idea of the tradition.

For the last four years we've opted for one of the Swiss restaurants who opt to do the meal. Marro, will be our destination for the third time.We've invited friends and family to join us for the meal, and the only drawback is no turkey sandwiches the next day.

I will still check to see who won the Reading-Stoneham and the Boston Latin-Boston English football games, but the spirit of sharing good things with good people has crossed the ocean.