Happy Thanksgiving!

I wrote the following story as a special Thanksgiving gift to my readers. Thank you all for reading and commenting on my blog. I sincerely hope you all have a great day!

A Thanksgiving Story

Jim sized up the turkey. It was large and encrusted with a golden brown skin that looked crisp and ready to fall off the succulent meat beneath. His wife had cooked it to perfection; the intoxicating smell consumed his nostrils and brought a smile to the faces of all those gathered around the table. The eyes of each family member were riveted on Jim in eager anticipation, waiting for the carving to begin. Jim inhaled deeply the turkey aroma; he could almost taste it. He then reached for the knife.

Jim cut through the string that bound the turkey’s legs together. The legs sprang apart, revealing the stuffing concealed within the turkey’s body. Jim then took the knife to each leg, carefully slicing through the skin at the joint and through the meat until the leg fell into the grease that covered the bottom of the platter. He picked up the first leg and placed it on his father’s plate. Grandpa Adams was eighty-five, but still able to rip into a turkey leg with the enthusiasm of a child. His face lit up as he took back his plate. His father-in-law, on the other hand, received the other leg as a token gesture. It had been two years since his doctor allowed Grandpa Read to enjoy a full Thanksgiving meal. He was now relegated to pureed vegetables and supplements. Jim could see the longing in his eye as he placed the leg on his plate, and wished he could spare him the torture and offer it to someone else. But family tradition ruled, and they would have it no other way.

The first slices carved from the breast went to the grandmothers, who both smiled as they took their portions. Grandma Adams was almost as exuberant as her husband, grinning and thanking Jim for her generous portion, which was actually as much as he gave everyone every year. Grandma Read was a little more somber, nodding as she received her plate of meat with sideways glances at her husband, her hand in his, gripping tightly as if his life was literally in her hands. After sixty Thanksgivings together, she was not about to let go.

Next was his brother Tom, who had dressed for a business function. The suit-and-tie motif was echoed in his son. Tom’s wife and daughter wore dresses that complimented Tom’s sense of occasion.  Tom received his plate with the slightest hint of a smile, as if his face would literally crack if it displayed emotion. The children sat upright, the very model of well-behaved children that was as artificial as Tom’s dark brown hair. Jim handed them each back their plates laden with turkey, and smiled genially without any hope of reciprocation.

Alison, Jim’s sister-in-law, avoided Jim’s eyes as she received her plate of turkey. Jim’s wife confided in him years ago that Alison had had a crush on him ever since they first started dating, and had never really forgiven her for marrying him. Interesting though this was, Jim wished she’d never said anything. He could feel the awkward tension whenever she came to visit, and he was always afraid of saying the wrong thing. The way she looked away but smiled hinted that she still held out hope. Jim just wanted her to find herself a husband and get over it.

Next to receive from the turkey was Jim’s Aunt Julia, who had traveled all the way from California to visit. Julia was younger than Jim’s mother, and had a wicked sense of humor. She could always be relied upon for after-dinner entertainment, regaling the family with stories from her youth that became more and more hilarious the more wine she was allowed to consume–which was usually quite a lot. Julia licked her lips playfully when Jim handed her plate over.

Jim then served his wife, to whom he gave a few extra slices claiming it as the chef’s privilege. Even after twenty-five years, her smile still managed to warm his heart. Alison never stood a chance.

As he sliced turkey for his own plate, Jim invited the guests to help themselves to Brussels sprouts, potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, gravy, and bread rolls. What a very strange group of people, he mused to himself, watching as they all passed bowls and spooned out food onto each others’ plates. They were the most disparate gathering of individuals Jim had ever known. They had absolutely nothing in common socially, and yet, as family, at this time of year, they could gather, and talk, and find something to share. And he was grateful for each one of them since, in their own ways, they enriched his life. Their annoying quirks made him more tolerant. Their laughter gave him joy. Their sorrows gave him depth and compassion. And seeing them share a meal together confirmed how remarkable and magical that thing is we call “family.”