Holiday Nostalgia

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and milestone birthdays were the highlights of my childhood. The holidays were gatherings of everyone we were related to; as an only child, seeing my crowd of cousins was the best part, but I enjoyed my uncles and aunts and grandparents too. Everyone was so nice, so affectionate, so ready to have fun. The way to express affection to a girl (after a big hug) was to tell her she was pretty--pretty dress, pretty hair--"too skinny though--we'll have to make sure you eat a lot today." Ah, the days, when people thought I was "too skinny." I haven't heard that one for a while. Make that decades.

If anyone in the extended family was mad at anyone else--they must have been sometimes, though I never heard about it--Thanksgiving and Christmas brought an automatic moratorium on such things. The definition of a holiday was "be nice to everyone, eat until you drop and enjoy yourself." The women outdid themselves by bringing their best dishes; everyone contributed: great pies, homemade rolls, angel salad. When it was my mom's turn to host, we could count on a turkey with my mom's stuffing and gravy (the best!), and there were always things that today's gourmets wouldn't welcome: sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows, jello "salad" with carrots and pineapple, celery stuffed with pimento cheese from a jar. Also, of course, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and gravy, green vegetables--the whole nine yards.

So the women cooked, the kids played, the men smoked, told off-color jokes, and talked about sports. Alcohol was not allowed unless you were an adult male who knew where my dad kept his stash in the garage. I loved to sit with my Uncle Stu at the piano while he played Viennese waltzes and told me stories about the war.

My mom and dad and every one of my aunts and uncles are gone now, taking those simpler days with them. I would gladly trade the feast we'll be having tomorrow for going to my mom's house for some jello salad and sweet potatoes with marshmallows.