When I was little I remember Thanksgiving being my dad’s holiday. He had a large family and all the siblings took a different holiday to host the big gathering at. Ours was Thanksgiving and it was not unusual to walk downstairs on Thanksgiving morning to find my dad sleeping in front of the oven. I can only assume it was because he was basting the bird all night long or he had risen very early to get it started.
Later in the day our home would be filled with the aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents all sitting around the many tables that were set out for all to eat at.
There would be chatter of all kinds going on as everyone ate, laughed and teased each other.
I don’t remember the food but I do remember the love.