measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To give thanks Just in time for Thanksgiving, the winter air has arrived. People huddle in multiple layers of clothes, half-running from building to building to escape Boston's infamous wind tunnels. (no really... Chicago has nothing on us. Believe it or not, Boston does have the wind record). Colleges and public schools are closed for the rest of the week, and many people were on the T this morning with suitcases and big bulky laundry bags to bring home. Save your quarters-- use mom's washer. Yes, I was once one of those people who had to leave early on Wednesday morning because the dorms closed at noon. I remember the feeling of "going home" quite fondly. Although for me, it was never going home to Montana. It was going to one of several relatives in Pennsylvania. It's been about eight years since I've been physically home for Thanksgiving. It's not that I don't want to, and until recently not that my dad couldn't afford to help me get there either. It's just impractical to fly to Montana for only three days. I miss curling up on the sofa with Dad, watching the daily football games as he put together some wild masterpiece in the kitchen and fearing whether he's going to try that god-awful cajun turkey recipe again THIS year.... The only throwback from my childhood days is getting up to help as needed on Thanksgiving morning... the kitchen ritual helps me start snuggling into that roughly 6-week holiday mood in our household that begins on Thanksgiving and ends on the weekend of my birthday. Other than one year, I've always made it *somewhere* for Thanksgiving. The one year I didn't, I did by choice because my mother and I weren't getting along well, and I was being an extremely stubborn senior in college. I regretted the decision afterwards, as I cooked dinner for LGM and our friend Todd, who couldn't afford to go anywhere for the weekend. Spending Thanksgiving without family made me even more thankful for them. Maybe it was an experience I needed to endure. I've been blessed with many members of my family being close both in hearts but in proximity. My mother's entire side of the family lives within 15 minutes of one another in Eastern Pennsylvania. Getting together for holiday meals is a huge affair, yet cozy at the same time. Each year, it seems that the table gets a bit bigger as another child is born or relatives visit. Each year the ratio between conversations in Polish and English leans more and more toward the English, and the Polish seems to be that much more valuable and beautiful. This year, Erich and I will be celebrating Thanksgiving with both of our families. We'll have Thanksgiving Day dinner with his parents here in Massachusetts, and then load ourselves and the cats into the car and drive down to Pennsylvania for the rest of the weekend. It's my time to bring someone to the table to be welcomed into the family. For the first time, going to Pennsylvania is going home. I like it. :) Happy Thankgiving to everyone reading. I don't know my internet access situation, so if I don't write before, see you on Monday. Take care, Mel. 9:30 a.m. - 21 November 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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