The Ghost of Turkey Past

I love Thanksgiving.

The smell of the aromatic turkey wafting through the house for hours seduces my taste buds every year. Can you smell it? Yummy.

There have been big gatherings filled with Aunts, Uncles and darling cousins over the years. And much smaller ones with just the siblings and momma. But they're all good. Each holiday is filled with good laughs and an abundance of love.

I feared that my mom would still be in the hospital this year when the Holiday arrived. How strange it would be to have dinner without her. How could we possibly be thankful?

Yesterday I brought my mom home and she settled on the family room sofa. We talked about what time we should wake up on Thanksgiving morning to get the bird in the oven. She recalled Thanksgivings from years ago when she, Nanny, Aunt Gloria and Nanny Massanova would wake at 3 a.m. at Nanny's house in Camden, put the coffee on and begin stuffing a 25-pound turkey for the family dinner. (Can you picture them in that kitchen, Liz? Can you imagine all the pink curlers?)

And then I realized that we'd always have something to be thankful for, for we were a family and momma was still with us. Perhaps she would have been in the hospital still, but she'd be coming home soon. Unlike those ghosts in that house in Camden, with pink curlers in their hairs as they chop the celery for the stuffing and spill coffee in a sleepy stupor on the Formica kitchen table.

We still have the blessing of time in which to create more Thanksgiving memories like that little snip it.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Take time to smell the turkey.