We’ll be having a quiet Thanksgiving this year. Mr. C’s sister’s family were supposed to come but since Mr.C has to work this weekend they ended up not making the long drive down.
I’m not even cooking, we’re going to go to Cracker Barrel.
I’m not feeling sorry for myself, truly I’m not. I’m thankful just to spend the day with Mr C, the Sassies, Pudge, and the rest of the critters.
I am blessed.
But I am looking back into the recesses of my mind and remembering our good old family gatherings.
In a tiny little bungalow in Detroit, where my folks raised 6 pretty darned good kids.
This was our house, probably not on Thanksgiving… but it’s Michigan so you never know!
The ping pong table in the basement was covered with a linen tablecloth and surrounded by folding chairs that were covered in velvet.
The good china was brought out, and the table was properly set. The china had pink flowers and a gold rim… so NOT like my Mom.
I remember the good silverware that was housed inside it’s own velvet-lined box and only used on special occasions.
Mom’s kitchen was smaller than my bathroom. But she made pumpkin pies and roasted the turkey and made all the trimmings too.
She made the best gravy… ever!
These pictures are not from Thanksgiving, but they give you an idea of how small the kitchen was…
turn around, take one small step and you’re on the stove side!
Since the kitchen was so tiny my Dad would carve the turkey down on his workbench. Everyone had to go in and pick at the bits and get pieces of the good crispy skin as he was carving. I seem to remember there always being a friendly argument between my brothers about who got the drumsticks.
My Aunt Margie would always come for the holiday dinners. She lived in Downtown Detroit at Carmel Hall. I loved to go with whoever picked her up or to take her home afterwards because it was a grand old building with an old fashioned elevator that had a gate and even a uniformed elevator operator.
Here’s Aunt Margie…
My Gramma and Grampa (Mom’s folks) would always come too. Grampa always had quarters in his pocket for me. But he called them “big nickels”. My Gramma always brought her special raspberry jello.
I don’t remember if the other guests ever brought anything… does anyone else remember?
Once in awhile Mom’s sister, Aunt Nan would come. She always seemed so very mysterious to me. In truth, I think she was just overwhelmed by the sheer chaos of so many people in such a confined space. Pictures of Aunt Nan are scarce, but there she is at the table in the photo above wearing the fashionable brown pants suit with a white shirt.
Sometimes my Aunt Anna would come from Milwaukee. She had a soft , kind of high-pitched voice. She ALWAYS wore a dress and a pearl necklace.
I vaguely remember that my cousins would come on occasion before my Dad’s brother, Uncle Eddie died. I don’t think they came after that.
I don’t know how all of those people could be in that tiny little house and it not feel crowded, but it never did… it just felt special.
I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving and are making special memories of your own.
If any family members have additional memories to share I would love to hear them!
Or if anyone else wants to share a memory, please do!