Thanksgiving traditions create memories for lifetime
On Thanksgiving Day of 1976, my cousins, uncles and myself gathered in my grandmother’s living room to watch the Detroit Lions beat the Buffalo Bills 27–14.
We were all stuffed to the gills from the huge dinner my grandmother had prepared as we viewed the football classic.
My brother was asleep under an afghan and my sister played Uno with my aunt as my uncles talked about hunting and fishing.
A little groggy from the delicious meal, I half-listened to the banter of the women doing dishes in the kitchen and the laughter of my cousins.
Our snug home on Limekiln Lake was far away from the family and we traditionally took the two-hour drive to share the holidays with them and catch up on all that had happened in the past year.
I had brought my sketchbook along and wondered if anyone would be interested in the notes and sketches I had made in the year since we had last seen each other.
The second football game was not as interesting as the first, which made me a little sleepy.
To avoid nodding off, I picked up my sketchbook and started to scratch out the likeness of my Uncle Bob.
He was hunched forward in his chair, wringing his hands as he told tales from hunting camp.
His eyes grew wide and he puffed up his cheeks when he spoke, a look I attempted to capture with pencil and paper.
I spent the next few hours just jotting down notes and sketching thumbnail images of everyone— recording the family and the sheer mirth of the afternoon.
When the sun went down, the house seemed to get even smaller and more snug.
Everyone gathered in the living room, not so much to watch the game, but to simply enjoy being together.
In my opinion, so much can be said about family gatherings.
What if there were no holidays? Would families even gather otherwise?
I suppose some would make the time and find a reason to get together, but I guess most would just keep on with their busy lives.
But I enjoyed our tradition just the way it was…with a football game drowned out by the laughter of adults, kids napping on the floor, and the smell of pumpkin pie wafting in the air.
Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Big Moose Lake. ltmitch3rdny@aol.com
