Thankful for thanksgiving

We are on the west coast of Ireland with not a cranberry of turkey in sight. Yet the lack of a Thanksgiving makes me no less thankful for all the proceeding Thanksgivings that are marching around in my head, a more pleasant-type of Dicken's ghost of Thanksgiving past.

Reading, MA--coming back from the traditional Reading-Stoneham game to smell my grandmother's roast turkey and baking pies. Taking off my coat, hat, gloves, scarf reveal the black slacks and red sweater that were the Reading Rocket colours.

Möhringen, Germany--asking a motherly-looking woman in the commissary at Kelley Barracks how to roast a turkey. She took the time to explain in detail including timing on the veggies.

Scituate, MA--After the dishes were cleared away at my dad's and step-mom's my aunts, uncles and my stepmom's dad Jack (who was also born on July 24) disappeared for their penny jars and the poker game would begin. My dad would stake me, and I could keep my winnings and his donated stake. If I lost, I didn't have to pay back the stake.

Over the hills and through the woods to Aunt Millie's house in CT we go...these were Norman Rockwell, Currier & Ives traditional Thanksgivings with my housemate's aunt. The women cooked in the kitchen, the men watched football. It was where Eva's meatballs were a must...she made them with grape jelly and ketchup, something the Pilgrims would never have had, but we did.

Boston, MA--Llara and I had a New England boiled dinner. After having turkey leftovers through March of the year because Digital had given us a huge turkey, we couldn't face turkey anything. The last bit of that turkey had been the turkey tacos.

Boston, MA--"It's an emergency," my daughter said over the phone as I was cooking Thanksgiving dinner. The "emergency" was that the bus hadn't shown up to take the band to the traditional Boston Latin/Boston English football game. I turned off the burners and oven and shuttled students and instruments. We did discuss that "emergency" includes, death, blood, gore NOT buses that fail to arrive.

Nashua, NH--With my Yugoslavian  exchange student we went to my brother's, the first he and his wife were to have in their new apartment. She was expecting my niece. My mother had pulled a hissy fit, saying we should be eating at her place, she couldn't drive and refused my brother's and my offer to drive her the horrible 30 miles distance. We held firm, but my brother did prepare a plate with all the lovely turkey fixings and desserts and made the 60 mile round trip. I wouldn't have.

North Andover, MA--Back from Toulouse we did eat Thanksgiving at my mother's. She was a wonderful cook. At the end she presented us with a bill. Despite the photo above she didn't take credit cards.

Geneva, Switzerland--a pumpkin pie appeared on my office desk at the IEC. In Switzerland, an American Thanksgiving was just another work day. One of the young women I worked with had her Armenian mother make me the pie. She'd heard me say that Thanksgiving was the only day I was homesick, really homesick, and she wanted me to feel better.

Payerne, Switzerland--Susie and Bill came from the States with the turkey roasting equipment. Llara and her friends came down from Germany bringing an American butterball from the Army commissary.

We were 12 and decorated the little house (behind the main house) my companion of the time used for entertaining. Eying the turkey and all the veggies and pies, he asked if we had enough for his friends. Three Swiss couples were called, invited (usually dinner invitations were planned weeks in advanced), cautioned NOT to wear suits, just casual clothes, and accepted.

Bill wanted me to explain the tradition in French. I found a Thanksgiving connection for everyone...Calvinistic Puritans, German Protestant reformation, Leiden sailings...until I came to Llara's Finnish boyfriend. In desperation I said, "And Eric drove the turkey to Payerne."

Corsier Port, CH--Julia and I wrestled with a turkey, especially ordered because whole turkeys are hard to come by and named him George. We put on a great meal for American friends and those who liked the idea of thankful feast.

Ferney Volaire, F--Llara and I took our friend Mary, a Brit to a Chinese Buffet in Ferney-Voltaire. I couldn't get the stove to work and we'd promised her a Thanksgiving feast. We wondered how Voltaire would have felt our substitution in face of tradition. Whatever he said, it would be well written.

Collonge-Bellrive, CH--the restaurant puts on a meal that matches the best American grandmother. Even the most talented grandmother couldn't produce the pumpkin truffle soup. We gathered friends and family. The only thing missing was the hot turkey sandwiches the next day.

I still want to know who won the Reading/Stoneham, Latin/English games. I'm grateful for the internet that allows it.

On a deeper level, many of the people whom I've shared Thanksgivings with are gone. I'm grateful for having them in my life. I am even more grateful for those still in my life not just today, but every day.