On Being Thankful
My family doesn’t have a ton of traditions. We don’t go to church on Easter or temple on Rosh Hashana. We don’t plant trees on arbor day or obsessively follow Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day. We used to go see a movie on Christmas and sometimes would spend New Year’s Eve somewhere snowy, but our real traditions are few and far between. One tradition that my family does take seriously is Thanksgiving and it’s one of the most fun days of the year.
Our family is spread pretty wide across these great (and not-so-great) United States. I rarely see any of my uncles, aunts, or cousins…let alone a whole mess of them. On Thanksgiving though, the Petermen flock to town. For the last decade-plus, my uncle and his two oldest sons (the cousins I’m closest with) gather at my parents’ house and it is an absolute hoot every year. As soon as they arrive in the morning, the mimosas start flowing and the bagels start toasting.
What you don’t see when that morning is the amount of work that my saint of a mother has been putting in for the entire week. She plans the whole day and every dish down to a degree that would make the D-Day landings at Normandy look like a night of improv at the UCB. What you do see is that ingredients are portioned and cut, serving plates are set up with post-it notes, and everything is ready to go into the oven HOURS before it’s time.
Back to the day of and naturally, there’s football on the tv, baseballs to be thrown, snacks to be eaten…and then when the afternoon hits one of our newest traditions: the family beer pong tournament. From seasoned competitors like myself and my cousins to relative newcomers like my parents, all revel in a chance to compete in the age-old practice of throwing balls in cups. It’s a great chance to enjoy the crisp fall Southern California weather, get out some energy, and pass the time by drinking a few Coors Lites while the big bird cooks.
Then the time for gluttony is finally almost upon us as we settle in around the table and admire all of the hard work that’s been done. Spatchcocked turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, veggies, and salads, we play all the hits at the Peterman house. Before we dive in though, we take a moment to think about what we’re thankful for in the spirit of the holiday.
In my day-to-day life, I complain a lot. I whine about my career, my bad back, my favorite sports team, or how I’m in a bad mood for no reason. On Thanksgiving though, I try to sit back and really think about how much I have to be thankful for: my wonderful family, my incredible partner, my relative health, the fact that I have a roof over my head, food on my plate, and that the United States has made it through the group stage of the World Cup (even if it was terribly stressful).
So, while it’s terribly cliché to be thankful on Thanksgiving, I still appreciate the reminder to appreciate all the wonderful things in this unforgiving world. What about you? Thanksgiving fan or think it’s overrated?
Very thankful for WDB and many of the same things you listed, but we must acknowledge something:
While Thanksgiving meals are delicious, the amount of time spent enjoying them compared to the amount of time spent prepping and doing the dishes afterward is an objectively bad ratio (although the leftover factor helps a bit).
I love this holiday for all the reasons the author has cited. No running around stressing out over what presents to buy (it's impossible to find something for a wife with far better taste than I have and there's only so many times you can give a Burke Williams spa gift, especially when you see three older ones sitting unused in her closet), just grocery shopping (early) and a house gradually filling with the wonderful smell of turkey and stuffing cooking. Then the arrival of family who you genuinely love to see, and soon the family room is full of laughter as cousins (all of whom seem to share a genetic sense of humor) bust each other's chops in a give and take so natural and easy it's hard to believe how rarely they're actually together. This year it was great to be dragged into the beer pong contest by the younger crowd and to hear Susan's delighted laugh as she dropped bombs into multiple cups. And when we all sat down together at the beautiful table she'd set, I could look at the faces of family I treasure, then to the remarkable owner of the brain that wrote this blog and finally to the amazing woman at the other end of the table who has made this house into the kind of warm, welcoming place that makes people take planes and five hour car rides at a crazy time of the year so they can share a meal and a couple of days with us. And if that weren't enough, this year, instead of the mano a mano golf game my brother and I play the day after, we were joined by my now golf addicted son in a new tradition we hope to continue for years to come. Even though my brother won the match, it was still a joy, and another reminder, as the author notes, of how lucky we are.