The Third Saturday of November

I wanted to display pictures from every Thanksgiving since Jon and I have been married, but apparently, we rarely take pictures on Thanksgiving. So the first one is legit, the others are just from the right month.

Thanksgiving '03

Thanksgivingish '04

Thanksgivingish '05

Thanksgivingish '06

I can't help it. I love the holidays. In a few days, I'll start playing my favorite Christmas albums on a daily basis. The kids' Christmas Eve PJ's have been sitting in the closet for a month. We had our annual holiday picture taken (see previous posts) and wish lists have been made. And on Saturday night, we ate Thanksgiving dinner.

Is that getting a little too far ahead of ourselves? I think it all started the first year Jon and I were married, 2003. We were road tripping to the Grand Canyon over my Thanksgiving break from work. We decided we wouldn't miss eating the traditional foods. As vegetarians, we wouldn't be eating a turkey, and mashed potatoes were something we could have any old time. I made a list of the foods we'd pack to minimize eating out. We were excited to take our first road trip together, thinking of it as our "babymoon," the last trip a couple takes before giving birth.

Three days before leaving, I had a change of heart, and the Sunday before Thanksgiving found us eating soy turkey, stuffing, corn, vegetarian gravy, and yes, the ubiquitous mashed potatoes. Our dinner plates were crowded on a tray, as we sat perched on the edge of our all-purpose bed. The home we were living in was so small that there was no place else to sit. We toasted our private holiday with sparkling cider and gave thanks with tears in our eyes for our life together, the life within, and our hopeful future.

I can vividly remember each Thanksgiving we've had since. Thanksgiving 2004 we took pumpkin pies to a friend's dad's house where a large gathering of people loaded up plates, then sat in front of a football game to consume the contents, culminating in a game of drunken Trivial Pursuit. Not a lot of fun for a family who shuns television and has a restless seven-month-old to entertain, although we appreciated the kind invitation and hospitality (and too much pie!) Thanksgiving 2005 we visited close friends Keith, Mary Lynn, and one-year-old Tecumseh in their city, about four hours away, helped cook the feast, and had a lovely time all around. Thanksgiving 2006 those same friends stopped by our place on their way home from a Mexican vacation. We have declared each other "chosen family," so honorary cousins Zephyr and Tecumseh jumped around joyfully in PJ's when they weren't trying to play with the same toy. (Phew. Now that I've written all that out, I can dedicate that brain space to something else!) This year will be an especially festive occasion. Thursday we are invited to Jessica and Mike's, followed by a Friday feast at Char and Carrie's. It will be wonderful to celebrate with these close-to-our-heart friends.

But each year, we had a private family feast, before the main event. I'm not sure why. It's funny, because early on Jon and I started having conversations (always initiated by me, I'm afraid) about how we'd like to have our own family traditions surrounding the holidays. Traditions that are high in meaning and low in cost. But we never really managed to come up with much, not through the conversations, anyway. This year is the first time I've made the realization that we do have our own Thanksgiving tradition. A calm, private family feast.

Sitting around our Quorn roast on Saturday, I started to ask the typical question, "What are you thankful for?" But then I remembered that we have that conversation every single night, before bed. Before turning out the light, we list big and small pleasures inspired by our day. My typical answer is usually something like "Jon, Zephyr, Jubilee, the dishwasher (unless you've been a parent without one, you have no idea how thankful I am for our dishwasher!), our home, the library, and cashews." Around the Thanksgiving table, we widen the lens and voice appreciation for elements of a more global nature: our life together, the life within, and our hopeful future. With tears in our eyes, we toast.