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by Lesley Misko
While attendance at our Thanksgiving dinners has always been sparse –- we were a family of three-- there was nothing small about the feast we cooked and consumed.
Delicious turkey, unusual stuffing (it contains Rice Krispies) that takes a day to make, candied sweet potatoes, homemade cranberry orange sauce, Crescent Rolls (for a bit of nostalgia), some years a Jello salad (also nostalgic), homemade chicken soup and matzo balls ( all holiday meals in Jewish homes begin with that), and homemade brandy chestnut pumpkin pie — all of this was served at one dinner.
Some years my parents would join us if they were driving from New York to winter in Florida; we were a convenient stop along their way. But mostly we cooked this meal just for the three of us, and when our son was grown and living elsewhere, my husband and I heroically maintained these culinary traditions -- even as we got older, developed aches and pains, tired more easily. We were determined that our son could come home to this wonderful dinner that reflected our love for him and maintained our holiday traditions..
Our son had a Thanksgiving tradition of his own. After dinner, he cleverly figured out that he could stack up books at face height on the sideboard across the dining room and set his phone’s camera timer so that he had just enough time to run back and crouch down between dad and me as we sat at the table. Whoosh! A family photo! While this sounds easy, it required takes and retakes and re, retakes until he felt satisfied with the image captured.
My husband and I, tired from days of cooking and cleaning, tended to lose our patience as our son kept insisting we repeat this process countless times until he got a photo that made him happy. Our smiles began to clench and turn to sneers, and I always hate the way I look in photos anyway. These photos never saw the light of day.
This changed four Thanksgivings ago when son Sean unearthed and printed a photo of the three of us from the previous Thanksgiving. He framed it and put it out on year-round display. Strained grins, messy hair, tired faces no longer mattered because the photo depicts the three of us – together. In reality, there were only two of us that year.
In the photo we are being silly, holding wood carved pilgrims our son insisted be included to signal the occasion of the photo. My husband had a pretty good sense of humor, but he wasn’t inclined to be silly, so the photo that my son framed captures him in a rare moment—playing with a Pilgrim.
Since then, there have been no Thanksgiving Day family photos. It was just too hard. My son accurately sensed I would not be up for a post dinner photo session with just the two of us.
But this year was different. Maybe it was just time. Maybe it was reading Doug Hales’ wonderful Expression essay last week about his journey to redefine the holiday and the comments of several readers who understood and identified with his journey. Whatever the reason, I emotionally realized it was time for a change.
We took that Thanksgiving family photo and while it feels a little lonely in the image, I know that much like that photo with the three of us, someday my son will be extremely glad that he has this photo that we took Thanksgiving night 2024.
More News from Boyertown
- A Pictorial Tour Through the History of Boyertown: Main Street Businesses page 29 Main Street--page 29
- Thanksgiving Tradition Offers Family R&R Binge-watching movies for days offered the Stahl family needed R&R and became their Thanksgiving tradition.
