When it comes down to it, the holidays are an excuse to come together. The tree, the cake, the turkey; they are accessories to celebration. The heart of it lies in the grand human desire to celebrate and feel grateful without needing a reason, but making the most of the opportunity when a designated day such as Thanksgiving comes along.
I feel guilty writing this as we are making few concessions to Thanksgiving here in Switzerland, but I wanted to show an effort to connect with my real and circus families from afar, and spending the morning musing on the holiday seemed like a good start. It’s hard to work globally and celebrate locally, today I’m grateful to have so many people in my life that understand that and make the most of the time we do have together.
That said, over the years we’ve made a fair shake of our Thanksgivings away from home, many of which have been in Montreal which has made it easier to scramble together some sort of celebration. A kitchen and a double scoop of ex-pat friends has always been more than enough to do the trick.
Thanksgivings in my memory are warm from the bodies and the oven, boisterous from the people and the cramped quarters and the Prairie Home Companion, busy from the cooking and setting of the table and relaxed from the too many hands and the early eggnog and the mixing of ages and friends and people that have collectively known one another for dozens- if not hundreds- of years. Wedged in there somewhere is a quiet moment, a time to read an old comic book in an overstuffed chair, sneak upstairs for a pre-dinner nap, or step out for a walk out to the store with one good friend with whom you wish you could share more walks more often.
It’s a time for festivities- suits and necklaces and dresses you wish you had more occasions to wear, the indulgent red flash of poinsettias around the house that the local French class was selling that will still be hanging on in June. It’s a time to experiment with the liquor cabinet that is inexplicably well stocked for how rarely you make mixed drinks, a time for toasts and jokes and slaps on the back. It’s a time to feel grateful for what you have, an easy task when it’s piled around you in the form of friends and family and memories and a roof and good smells and the time to enjoy them.
Finally there’s my favorite part of the evening, the rolling up of sleeves and loosening of ties, the casting off of jackets and high heels, the time when everyone invariably winds up drifting around the house, collecting in small pockets to play cards or check in on the game or show off a project in the basement. The time when there is no more to be done and everyone is comfortably stuffed and pleasantly sozzled and can indulge in a healthy dose of guilt-free nostalgia.
I like that the day has a natural rhythm to the phases, that it ebbs and flows between frantic and lazy, hungry and full, tense and relaxed. I like that new friends and their traditions are folded into the tried-and-true family recipe for the day and will reemerge in future years as if they had been there from the start. I like that when it comes down to it, the stresses of the day are fun and inconsequential because the result that matters- spending time with loved ones you don’t see as much as you wish you could- is already in the bag.
To my friends and family celebrating together today, get an extra hug in there for me. I’m thinking of all of you.
Happy Thanksgiving.