Senior Moments
By Charles P. Eberson
A Senior’s Observations, Opinions and Rantings
Another Thanksgiving is behind me and as my body struggles to regain homeostasis, its natural balance after an evening of overindulgence, I am reminded of Thanksgivings past.
My mother-in-law, who owned a sub shop in Margate and a luncheonette in Ventnor is an unbelievable cook, so Thanksgiving was her Super Bowl. She could cook for a small army and that is pretty much what we had on Thanksgiving. There were close to 30 people in attendance, everyone from family, soon-to-be family, employees, neighbors, friends and I swear at least one person who was on their way to the bus stop on the corner. She worked in that kitchen for days before the dinner, and went in there asking to help would elicit the same response as if you walked into an operating room and said to the surgeon, “I think we need a little more suction there.” We all knew enough to just stay out of the way.
Eventually, when everyone found their seat at the table, there was hardly enough room for all the different dishes of food coming out of the kitchen. Just one serving from every platter would eventually be heaped on top of your plate and drizzled with gravy. But wait. No one could start eating until my father-in-law stood up to give thanks, a reminder of how fortunate we were. We can’t eat yet. We had to go around the table and each person had to say what they are grateful for. My food is getting cold. As the thankful process is getting toward the end, it is time for Aunt Gloria to speak. Aunt Gloria is the eccentric aunt and as she prattles on, I am trying not to let my head drop into my food. Finally, it is done, and we can eat. It is quiet for a bit with just an undercurrent of conversation. However, as the meal progresses, voices get raised and differences of opinions on football, hockey and finally politics emerge. There seems to be the belief that the louder you are the more valid your argument. I was raised in our home by my British mum mostly and the level of conversation at our table was little more that “Please pass the peas,” so this chaos was something I had not experienced.
When the meal was over, dessert was served and brought some decorum back to the table after which some people left and the rest went into the den to watch football. But not me. I ate so much my vision was graying out at the edges and I could hear my pulse in my ears. The next year, my wife and I decided to go back to a more intimate Thanksgiving at our home with just our closest family. We all had so much to be thankful for, but my wife eloquently spoke for everyone sharing how fortunate we were. There was much less food, but enough for all. Less people but more unity. Less voices being raised, but more laughter. I ate with more discretion and when we retired to the TV it was not football, we were watching but cartoons for our grand children.
This is how our Thanksgiving holidays have been lately and how we will continue this tradition in the future. I hope that all my readers had a wonderful Thanksgiving with their families. We can only wish that at some point in the near future, our military families will enjoy the holiday at home with their families as well.
