Thanksgiving Cliché

I feel like there isn’t anything I can write today that won’t slowly dissolve in to cliché. Thanksgiving is a sentimental holiday, and I am a sentimental person- as is probably evidently clear in this point in my Blog Every Day November posting.

Thanksgiving over the years mostly blurs together in my mind. There are a few stand outs—the year I spent it in a hostel in Jerusalem, the year after my first cousin was born, or the first time we had our meal at my aunt and uncle’s first house- but most of it seems to settle in to my mind in a sense of sameness that’s comforting and familiar.

I’m in a good place right now. I’m cuddled up in the corner of a couch surrounded by my family as we prepare to go meet everyone else later on. The parade is on tv and I, like always, have my laptop out writing away. Dad is at the sink, peeling potatoes to make latkes and shouting dumb dad jokes at the parade that he’s pretending not to watch. Mom is in the kitchen as well, cooking something that I can’t identify, but will undoubtedly be my favorite part of the meal later, because my mother’s cooking is still the best in the world. My little brother and grandma are on the other side of the couch, half watching the parade, half watching something on their phones. The dog is attempting to convince anyone to pet her, and idly attempting to get some potato scraps from my dad.  The house feels warm and comfortable and full of life in a way that I’ve missed. 

This year Thanksgiving and Hanukkah overlap- which is strange but wonderful, especially for a religion that thrives so much on food, family, and tradition. It means we all get to be together to light the candles of the menorah, which I haven’t had a chance to do in years. It means latkes with the turkey, and mixing prayers in English and Latin and Hebrew and mixing family and friends from lots of different places. It means pumpkin pie and rugalach and opening presents while watching football.

I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. I’ve got the family surrounding me right now, and the family we’re going to see later. The cousins I’ve watched grow up, and the aunts and uncles who still can’t believe I’m this old. The dinner cooked by the family I love, which seems to supply enough leftovers to last until I can’t conceive eating another bite of turkey ever again. The friends who have been sending me silly text messages and puns about the combination of Hannukah and Thanksgiving, and the families who are busy asking them about their future plan. For the silly crafts my cousins have made to decorate the tables, and the football games I won’t watch but will listen to other family members yell at.  I’m thankful for all the people who have read the things I’ve written this month, and have supported my emotional ramblings, even when they veer in to the realm of rants.

I’m (mostly) ok with the cliché happening here, because the cliché exists for a reason. The cliché exists because it makes people happy and comfortable. The cliché exists because families like mine are sitting down together all over, enjoying each other and enjoying their days. I’m thankful to be part of something that celebrates people being together.

I’ll see you tomorrow, when I have a stomach much more full of turkey with a head full of ridiculous family stories.  So happy Thanksgiving ya’ll.