[img]396|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img] When I was a child, my family always celebrated Thanksgiving at my paternal grandmother’s house. We’d schlep from Manhattan to Queens on the subway—it seemed a world away.
The food was okay. I liked the turkey, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. Grandma always plopped a spoonful of mashed turnips on my plate, and I hated those. I was never a big eater, and pretty picky. So after a few bites of the things I liked, I’d push the other stuff around my plate until Grandma would declare, “She eats like a bird! Why don’t you eat your turnips?” I’d respond in my head, “Because they taste like sour mashed potatoes mixed with water?”
The evening always ended with Mom, Dad, and Grandma getting drunk. My brother and I desperately tried to entertain ourselves by watching TV or fighting. Finally, it would be time to leave, and if it was a good year, we’d take a cab home.
Thanksgiving is different for me now. Mom, Dad and Grandma have passed on (and we have the collection of ashes to prove it!). I do my own thing on Thanksgiving, and it changes every year. I like it that way.
A few years ago, I went to Mike and Lisa’s house. Mike made a smoked turkey, which was a first for me. It was delicious. I brought salad, and put the dressing on before I left the house. It was a quarter of the size it had been by the time I arrived. Everyone was polite and didn’t remark on it much. Some people even went so far as to eat some of it. The other night I was over at Mike and Lisa’s for dinner, and they served turnips, which I had not eaten since about 1978. I said an apology to Grandma in my head, and then complimented Mike on a job well done. They tasted great!
Last year I went to my favorite local restaurant and ordered the turkey dinner that is on the menu every day. It came with turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing and cranberry sauce. I ate half of it the day before Thanksgiving, and stayed home by myself to eat the rest on Thanksgiving Day. I didn’t leave the house, and it was one of the best Thanksgivings I’ve ever had.
This year I was planning on doing a repeat of last year, when my friend Dawn asked me what I was doing. “Nothing!” I replied, beaming. She said, “Oh, please come to our house. We’ve been looking for a guest!” We are the kind of friends who can just say it like it is; we’re both New Yorkers in Boston. How can you turn a request like that down? I’m going to Dawn and Jeremy’s house for Thanksgiving.
Before I go, I’ll putter around the house, with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on in the background. I won’t be watching football, but I hope to catch the National Dog Show, which is one of my favorite pastimes on Thanksgiving.
I’ll say a prayer for all the things I’m thankful for, including friends, my cat, my health, and Mike’s turnips. By the time this is published, Thanksgiving will be over. I hope you had a good one, even if you had to eat a little something you didn’t really care for. And I thank you for reading what goes on Inside My Head.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at campbellalexandra@hotmail.com
