This holiday was an unusual one on a lot of fronts for us. We were missing some key people whose absence was acutely felt; the now-expected COVID restrictions were in place; what dinner table conversation there was steered clear of politics – televised sporting events flickered in the background with strange, cardboard cutouts of quarantined fans seated in the stands.
In most cases we know, families voted to keep their celebrations small and contained or not to meet at all. We went small, concentrating on the trappings of the season – spending time in the kitchen and carefully putting things together, absorbing smells and textures. There was a surprise nap involved afterward, unheard of at previous celebrations.
Those who gathered dined at carefully spaced tables – hosts using tape measures to pace off six foot distancing orbits around guests – kid’s tables in some cases relegated to the garage, with available electronics to keep them occupied.
No hugs. No Auntie Kisses, heavy with Jean Nate. No familial back claps or intimate contact. It was Thanksgiving – Light. Good, but not the real deal.
Some folks we knew made a break for the airports and families far away or to get to vacation hot spots – convinced there was no threat posed by travel or proximity to others. Some have since been proven wrong, we’re sad to report, and are dealing with the ramifications of their decisions.
But in the face of continued crises we opted to indulge and savor our small enjoyments, relishing the leftover turkey sandwich we made the day after.
How was Thanksgiving for you?
Going to have to try that cocktail!!! Quet thanksgiving.
Yes, we are “Making it through” one curtailed Thanksgiving holiday during a hundred year pandemic emergency. That doesn’t exactly epitomize sacrifice or loss, does it?! A quarter million covid dead, mostly dead from negligence, but how do we make up for our loss of sportainment and family feasting? Thankfully, Uncle Frank and Aunt Edna will pass peacefully, blissfully from this dreadful disease because for them, it doesn’t exist. And, that gurgling sound, well that’s not the worst possible way to die. No, no, just a babbling brook along the road to heaven.