Thanksgiving Gumbo!

The holiday season has finally arrived... only now catching up with the decorations that went up in major department stores well before Halloween was over. These symbols of seasonal cheer seem to go up faster every year. Just because Christmas Trees and twinkle lights already adorn shelves and aisle-ways doesn't mean the holiday spirit will automatically kick in. I hear more people gripe about the jump start than not. There is a time for every season no matter how hard retailers try to prematurely kick specialty shopping into gear.

I grew up enjoying the much anticipated holiday traditions that were practised in my family. Every Halloween, my brothers and I would dress-up and go trick-or-treating. Of course, it also traditionally snowed every year too so coats, hats, scarves and gloves usually covered up whatever it was we were supposed to be. That didn't matter though. As every kid probably agrees... it was all about the candy anyway.

For Thanksgiving, everyone gathered at my Grandparent's house. We would arrive hours before the turkey was fully cooked so as to sit around the living room, chatting with one another and snacking almost non-stop on crackers, cheese, and mixed nuts. It is a wonder any of us were even hungry once the bird and stuffing were edible. But eat we did... once I said the grace that is (also a yearly tradition). In the end, though more full than should be humanly possible, we always maintained the unwavering hope that room would be made in our overextended bellies for a piece of pie piled two inches high with whipped cream. It was a tough accomplishment but one we unfailingly succeeded at every year.

Then came Christmas. Even if my brothers and I had managed to over-sleep (gasp), my Aunt would never have let us down. Each year in the wee hours of morning (and I am talking the 4am range) she would call every family member's household until someone picked up the phone. She would keep calling every five to ten minutes until she was satisfied that not only were we awake enough to have a coherent conversation but were actually up and mobile. It was Christmas day after all! Once everyone was out of bed, my family followed a pattern. First a cup of coffee (for the parental units) and either hot chocolate or a cup of OJ for us kids before we were allowed to head down to the family room for presents. Next came the unloading of the stockings which had been completely empty only hours before. Santa was always very generous and at times quite creative with the types of gifts that came from these oversized socks. Finally came the unwrapping of presents from under the tree. No mad rush mind you... slow, one-by-one, and aware. Oh yes, it was polite to notice what everyone else got one gift at a time. In the end, there was a pile at least knee high of wrapping paper, ribbons, bows, and boxes that hid the carpet. This became the traditional setting for the yearly Christmas morning photographs. This was not the end however. Once the sun was up, presents were unwrapped, and the anticipation of Christmas morning sufficiently quenched then it was time for all the family to meet at some pre-determined restaurant for breakfast. At this time we would compare the gifts we were able to wear on our personal beings and talk highly of those that were left back at home.

And so the traditions went on until...

Time has a funny way of bringing all good things to an end. Not that that means something bad has taken its place... just different. I have struggled with that over the last ten years or so. I can't seem to capture that same child-like excitement that drove me giddily towards the holidays of my youth. I like the tree, but do I really "see" it. The stockings still sit in a pile on the floor where I left them after removing them from the storage box. Most of the other decorations didn't even make it that far. My husband spoils me enough during the year that getting gifts for the sake of getting gifts just because it is Christmas doesn't inspire me to really want anything. Gone are the days of mystery box anticipation.

Don't get me wrong, I am not a Scrooge. Perhaps Scrooge's sister's cousin's best friend's neighbor's daughter. What truly makes any part of the holiday festivities enjoyable is... family. But even then something is missing. My guess is that it has to do with, in our case, the lack of children. That is only a guess. On the flip side, due to way too many years of dreaming, I fear that once children are a part of the scene I'll find myself still lacking in enthusiasm. Perish the thought! For now, though, I will stick with the theory that once the youthful excitement of Christmas comes into our lives through the eyes of a child or two or three then the Christmas of my memories will once again return... possibly even better than I remember.

You are probably wondering about the title... Thanksgiving Gumbo. Well, since my childhood traditions have become more memory than reality and the children of my dreams have yet to materialize, I figured why not break all holiday code and do something different. This year, my Husband and I chucked the idea of a turkey out the window and went with a homemade chicken, sausage and shrimp gumbo. Throw in a store bought chocolate cheesecake, a nice white wine, TV trays and the DVD of A Christmas Story and you have our latest celebration of thankfulness. How thankful I am for my wonderful Husband who is not only my very best friend but also the greatest gift God ever gave me. Though we hope for children to make our family complete, we find true peace and contentment with one another. Yes, I have much to be thankful for. Anything more will be an extra bonus.

God... thank you so very much!