Over the years, I have lost track of how many times I have rewritten this piece. With Thanksgiving two days away, I dug it out again. Some of the wording has changed, along with some punctuation corrections. Every year, I find more issues with that than anything else.

The one constant is the meaning I hope you will find when you read it - some of you for the tenth time!

Since it is Thanksgiving, I wanted to say that I am fortunate to have so much to be thankful for. The list would be too long to enter here. If you think about it, I hope you come to the same conclusion.

Enjoy

Time to Give Thanks

     With the fall and winter holidays upon us, I reflect on the ritual of friends and families gathering to share in good conversation and scrumptious meals. Usually, the matriarch fixes the main courses with rich, fat-filled delicacies. The process takes days of planning and preparation, and when everyone has arrived after traveling from distant and not-so-distant places, the meal that took so long to prepare is gobbled down in 20 minutes or so.

     Having been the only female in my immediate family after my mother's passing, I became the sole meal preparer, which included significant events such as holidays. Much work is involved, and the periodic food disaster has not evaded me. And more of these celebratory dinners have turned out better than not. For that, I give thanks and a deep sigh of relief.

     Some women flow naturally through such events as a major holiday dinner, making it all look easy. For others, catastrophe is just around the corner. Looking back, I don't just remember the dinners that turned out as triumphant accomplishments; I am also reminded of those that were less positive of occasions.

     Case in point: There was a Thanksgiving when the thermal coupler in the oven broke, but only after it had cooked the turkey just long enough to fill the house with a pleasant odor, which led me to believe the bird was cooking as it should have been. Big turkeys take hours to cook, and it was well into the day before I realized this bird was still raw. My guests finally ate around 10 p.m. that evening and made no effort to hide their gratitude for being able to eat at all. 

     With a slight cringe, I recall another holiday dinner with more than its share of glitches. This occasion was one of many that I decided to try something new. This dinner involved the door of an on-the-counter electric oven blowing off its hinges (be assured this was not in the recipe, just an unfortunate side effect of an overzealous cook).

     I was eager to try a new dish — an orange brandy glazed ham. Following the recipe's instructions, I started with a bit of brandy. After that, I poured some of the brandy over the ham. As the heavenly odor whiffed through the room, my thoughts drifted to the possibility that pouring even more brandy over the sizzling delicacy would make what was shaping up to be an exemplary new recipe even better. 

     Fortunately, no one was in the room when the explosion occurred. The shrapnel from the electric oven's door being hurled across the kitchen and the ham igniting into a ball of flames did not cause any harm to anything other than the oven — and to the ham, of course.

     Having retained enough of my introductory high school chemistry, I had the sense to shake baking soda over the ham and not water to douse the flames, thus evading what could have turned from a dinner disaster into a call to the EMTs, where indeed the use of "the paddles" would have been implemented to, if possible, revive the cook. 

     A sharp knife removed the hard, crusted, smoking, and blackened outside of the ham, and a good washing eliminated most of the baking soda taste. Again, the guests were thankful for what turned out to be a rather tasty and thoroughly cooked ham dinner.

     As is true of any dinner, holiday, or other, the cook wants everything to taste delicious and hopes that everything will be ready at the same time. To some, the attempt to accomplish this is an art that comes readily and with ease. For others — not so much. For the latter, it is like a math exam gone awry when they reflect on earlier days when they should have stayed up studying the night before instead of partying.

    A cook has the main meal to be concerned with and the continued requests and responsibilities of tending to her children and pets. Schedules remain the same for both, no matter how many house guests arrive early or late. In addition, there is usually one guest that chooses to partake in heavy libation consumption and gloms onto her like a hump on a hunchback, talking continually and following the cook's every step.

     This situation was the picture on one holiday years ago when I was in my usual state of panic over whether I had done everything needed to complete a dinner that would feed fifteen or more people.

     The kitchen was steamy from several pots of various dishes in different stages of research and development, bubbling and gurgling on the stove. In their festive moods, the guests happily conversed and moved in and out of the kitchen. I was doing my best to maneuver between them, stirring this and checking that while trying to retain the air of a pleasant hostess.

     While I hid my panic behind my shiny smile, I noticed my dog was getting underfoot and realized she had only put herself in harm's way because it was past her dinner time. In a hurried response, I grabbed a can of her dog food, scooped out the first glob, and plopped it in her bowl. 

     The kitchen's noise level continued rising as everyone found a comfortable counter edge to lean on or a chair to plop down in. The festivities were well underway.

     Amid my confusion with the second heaping scoop of dog food on the spoon, I rushed to the stove to stir the green beans. These were not just any green beans — instead, an incredibly delicious blend of fresh green beans, extra sharp cheddar cheese, and bacon pieces with just the right sprinkling of spices. As luck would have it, it was at that moment they required a final stirring. 

     I caught my gasp before anyone else heard it, and it was at that precise moment I saw that I had mixed the dog food evenly with the beans and bacon, and everything had become completely enveloped with cheese. It was too late to get a replacement vegetable, and thanks to a dear friend's suggestion and assurance (a friend whom I had entrusted with my unexpected culinary misstep), no one would notice. Convinced it would be okay, I served the beans — including the healthy scoop of higher-end canned dog food, as if nothing had happened.

     Interestingly, the most outstanding part of this holiday dinner memory is that I received compliments on this bean dish unlike I had ever received before. Many years after I admitted to my less-than-stellar culinary moment, it became a running joke that I consider including the dog food in this fabulous recipe, as this delicious dish was never quite the same without it.

      As the years go by, friends will drift away. Either you or they will move. You or they will start families, which may include new people to share these special occasions with. These events are something to celebrate as life is always moving on at an unstoppable pace. Hurry — don't miss it.

     No matter how you look at it, like it or not, over the years, change happens. Our children grow up and make their own families, and with any luck, they will want us to be a part of it. If not, it cannot be the end of ours. It will be another obstacle to find our way over, under, or around — during this precious journey.

     It remains one of my greatest desires that even with the changes that life puts before me, I will meet them with the openness of my heart and the compassion of my spirit.  

     We may have thought things would be different; no doubt, most of us have from time to time. But, as life ticks on keeping time with that ever-temporary clock, know that none of us has complete control over the outcome. 

     So, it is with that I say, if your transvestite daughter, without your knowledge or approval, appropriates your husband's best suit — and one of your sons shows up at your door to introduce you to his new husband Ralph — greet them all with the incredible warmth your heart can give — and give thanks that you are still able to wrap your arms around them. 

     Be grateful and be thankful for all the moments. Your memories will be your comfort long after your breasts have hitched a ride south.   

     Cherish all of it. Breathe deeply and love completely. Laugh hard and laugh often. I cannot think of a better way to pop a vein.

     And absolutely, always — keep a box of baking soda — close at hand.