MUSINGS: Thanksgiving

By DELMAR LEATHAM

The Progress

Thanksgiving is a true American holiday that revolves around family and is steeped in tradition.
Legend has it that the first thanksgiving was held between the Indians and the Pilgrims. It may not have been a holiday but it was definitely a feast. The shared meal celebrated the end of the fall harvest and fattened everyone up for their long winter nap.

George Washington recommended a day be set aside for giving thanks and Abraham Lincoln made thanksgiving an American holiday. I doubt that any of the American citizens needed the government to tell them to have a feast and ignore gluttony as a sin.

As usual, the Legislature came to the party late and tried to convince their fellow Americans that the party was really their idea. Most people listened politely, invite them to sit down and then watch them eat all the pie.

One of my most memorable Thanksgiving days happened while I was still in high school. There was no extended family nearby so the family gathering consisted of my mom, my dad, and my three sisters.

We usually had a jigsaw puzzle that took up half of the dining room table and was still unfinished at dinner time.
My mom baked the pies and made the rolls.

Dad prepared the bird and the stuffing. It was genuine stuffing that was crammed into the bird. Onions and celery were sautéed in butter and heavily seasoned with salt, pepper and sage. Two loaves of bread were torn into pieces and a dozen eggs were cracked into the mix. This was no light and fluffy dressing that debutants might eat a crumb or two at a sitting. This was a heavy thick stuffing that could be covered in gravy and eaten as a stand-alone meal.

On that memorable day, dad put the turkey in the oven and we all loaded into our four-man International Scout and went for a five hour drive out through the surrounding hills.
The Scout was designed to hold four people but with a bit of family love we could all crowd in and enjoy the ride.

When we returned home, to our dismay, the turkey was still raw. The element on the stove had burned out and we were forced to eat rolls and pie on the half of the table that was not covered in jigsaw pieces.

As a side note, it gave my oldest sister great pleasure to slip one of the puzzle pieces into her pocket so she could have the honor of placing the final piece of the puzzle. Little did she know that the real joy of jigsaw puzzles was destroying the finished puzzle and putting it back into the box. Those boxes were eventually given to the Salvation Army or Deseret Industries to be enjoyed by other puzzle fanatics. I’m confident that most of the boxes were missing a puzzle piece that can still be found in my sister’s jewelry box.

In my college years it was common for my roommates and some of the girls next door to celebrate an early Thanksgiving before the holiday break.

The young women, in their wisdom, assigned a dish to the men that they could not mess up: the mashed potatoes. Well! Surprise, Surprise.

Lacking proper supervision and receiving no directions we prepared the spuds on our own. There were going to be 12 people in attendance so we decided to prepare a ten-pound bag of potatoes. Every pan we could beg borrow or steal was filled with mashed potatoes. Four pans of potatoes appeared at the holiday feast. Only one pan was eaten even though they were very delicious potatoes.

I should note that it was a common event to get together with different apartments of girls as a way to meet girls in a casual setting. You could also screen out the bad cooks and the ones that could only use a can opener. Let’s not judge, we were young and new to the high stakes dating games of college.

I was the last of my siblings to marry and when the holidays rolled around my mother gathered us all together to plan the Thanksgiving feast.

She informed us that she had cooked her last holiday dinner and looked forward to coming to one of her children’s homes. She left all the cooking and planning to us kids so she could enjoy celebrating the holiday.

My children are all grown and have families of their own. We now share the annual feast with other families. Every other year it is our turn to host the dinner.
My favorite part of the holiday is preparing all of the pies the day before Thanksgiving.

The women all gather in our kitchen and prepare a cornucopia of tasty desserts. They tolerate my advice and then do as they please. I am granted limited tasting privileges but I am allowed to fully enjoy the spirit of family.