Thanksgiving Is about Relationships

It was November 28, 1977. Another Thanksgiving had concluded. Family who had traveled from out of town had long since packed their cars with bags of foil-covered leftovers. They would be warm reminders of the celebration. My mother was interrupted in the middle of her cleaning regimen by labor pains. Restoring the house to order after days of Thanksgiving festivities and visitors would have to wait.

My grandfather nicknamed me Turkey, blaming all the turkey my mother ate as the cause of labor.

I believe anyone born near or on a major holiday has a unique perspective on that holiday. For me, Thanksgiving would be the day everyone would be completely absorbed by the smell and tastes of turkey, and year after year, the smooth ripples of birthday cake frosting would elude me. I would forever be the Turkey Baby.

I didn’t realize how this day impacted my birthday until I was old enough to be invited to birthday parties. Cute invitations with ribbons, bows, or glitter and lace with my name neatly printed on the envelope requested my presence at the birthday celebration of classmates, family members, and neighbors. I don’t know when it happened, but eventually I began to want a birthday when the day was all about me. No pumpkin pie allowed!

Once, when I was almost fourteen, I decided to ask my mother for a birthday party. I don’t know back then if I even considered why my mother never had a separate birthday celebration for me. I remember that day like it was yesterday. My mom had already been shopping for everything we needed on Thanksgiving. She had already baked a couple of pumpkin pies and my favorite sweet pumpkin roll. I would be helping her make homemade yeast rolls soon—yum!

Her back was turned as I asked the big question. Without turning to face me, she simply replied that I could put candles in the turkey and our family would sing Happy Birthday to me if I wanted. That was it. There were no more questions, because you didn’t argue with my mother. That year, to set my big day apart, there would be candles in the turkey.

You may be tempted to feel sorry for me or to wonder if I ever got the magical birthday party I dreamed of. I can tell you as I look back that I did. My mother is an amazing cook, and she showed my siblings and me how much she loved us by how hard she worked to provide for us. Eventually, I came to feel that not having typical birthdays like most children was actually special, because Thanksgiving was such an important time of connection in my family.

Sobremesa is a Spanish term used to describe the time people spend visiting after lunch or dinner when family and friends catch up with one another. Looking back on our annual Thanksgiving meals, our home was always filled with my family laughing about old times and making jokes about times to come. This was better than anything I experienced at any birthday party where most of the attention was focused on one person. Even though it was my birthday, Thanksgiving wasn’t all about me, and that was okay.

There are two definitions of the word thankful. The first means to be pleased or relieved. The second is an expression of gratitude. The difference between the two is that the first is like saying, “I’m sorry I’m in this situation, but I’m thankful or relieved it is over.” The other definition has to do with genuine gratitude for what we have.

True celebration happens in relationships. I’ve seen how Thanksgiving for many families today has transitioned from rooms filled with family and friends celebrating together in person to long-distance phone calls, text messages, Facebook posts about turkeys cooking, and children Skyping with their grandparents. So now, when Thanksgiving arrives, I am not thankful in the first sense–relieved when the family has returned home to their destinations or that the clean-up from the festivities is over. Instead, I am grateful every time family members and friends take time from their busy lives to have Sombremeso, which I now fully embrace as the ambassador of Thanksgiving.

I’m not just thankful, I’m grateful to be the Turkey Baby. This year it is my prayer that you take the opportunity to be grateful for those you love. Don’t rush through the Thanksgiving meal, and don’t think about the work involved in setting up and cleaning up. Enjoy Sobremesa with your own people, and stick some candles in the turkey for me!

NaTasha Hart grew up in a small town that taught her to love people and the little things in life. Although born in Indiana, she has experienced life in various places. She is comfortable coloring outside the lines and frequently writes beyond the margins. Tasha blogs at tashartlife.com.

Photograph from PublicDomainImages.

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