Thanksgiving Mornings

Every year I procrastinate, where are we eating on Thanksgiving? There is never a clear answer because nothing feels right. It’s been 13 years since my Grandmother sold the house in Erie and I haven’t spent a Thanksgiving there in twenty years, but when I think of where I am supposed to be on Thanksgiving, that’s the place. Growing up we spent Thanksgiving in Erie. We would stay at my Grandparent’s house (my Dad’s parents) – my brother and I would sleep in the L-shaped bedroom upstairs – the few nights of our childhood that we shared a room.

Thanksgiving morning I remember being the first one awake with Grandma Lois. She would be up early getting the turkey in the oven and I would come downstairs and talk to her while she cooked. Then she would make breakfast for me and I would eat it at a TV table while we watched the parade. Thanksgiving mornings are my strongest childhood memories of Grandma Lois.

We would eat two big meals – the first at my Grandparent’s house and the second on my Grandma Julie’s house. It was a day filled with family, some of whom we only saw on that one day of the year.

Tomorrow we will eat Thanksgiving in our home and our children will be able to eat with both sets of their Grandparents and I hope that they are building their own Thanksgiving memories.




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