I love Thanksgiving. Having grown up in New England, I associate Thanksgiving with orange, yellow, red, and purple leaves swirling in the crisp wind. My mother is not American so we tended to celebrate with goulash or duck rather than with turkey and mashed potatos, but my grandmother came over every year, and it was a fun day.
Since making aliyah I've celebrated Thanksgiving only once, when I made a full meal for my Israeli relatives. I enjoyed doing it and would have done it again this year were I not so busy planning the UYO class. What with the course and all my work, a lot of things were put on the backburner. By the time the course ended my apartment was a mess and all I wanted to do was sleep for three days straight (which I did, pretty much). So the thought of having company was too much. Plus, in these parts one must order a whole turkey well in advance, as the supermarkets don't automatically carry whole turkeys just because it's the end of November.
But today I've been feeling sad. My mother is making a Thanksgiving meal for herself, my father, and another judge and his family. I miss my folks.
To cheer myself up, I decided today that next week, for Friday night dinner, I'll make a Thanksgiving meal. Sure it'll be a week late, but at least I won't miss out on the cranberry sauce and stuffing and potatos and apple pie. I've invited a few friends who are very appreciative.
But, it's still a week late. And it's not with my parents or sister. And my grandmother died last year.
It's just not the same.