Thanksmas
Taking a favorite holiday and blending it with another works for our growing family
Growing up, Thanksgiving was THE holiday for me.
Our family traveled every year on Christmas Day to see my grandparents in East Texas, taking advantage of the break they had before returning to teach school. That meant we celebrated with our neighbors — Fran and Bill, aka my “second set of parents” — and opened our presents on Dec. 24. The next morning, my sister and I would awaken to bleary-eyed parents and Santa’s present and stocking before loading up and heading to Longview for a few days.
Thanksgiving, on the other hand, was a chance to relax, watch the parades and the football games, and eat together (again with Fran and Bill). Fran, who worked with NASA research scientists at Lunar and Planetary Institute, would invite all of her co-workers who had nowhere else to go to join us, which often spurred some interesting conversations.
That trend continued throughout my childhood, even as my grandparents came to the end of their lives. We lost all four — my dad’s parents and my mom’s father and stepmother — during the fall and winter months over an 11-year period. At one point, it seemed like every holiday was spent visiting someone in the hospital.
I will never forget an infamous Thanksgiving that occurred soon after my paternal grandfather passed away. We brought my grandmother, then in her late 70s, down to be with us, and she never stopped talking through the entire dinner. It was the first time I realized how lonely she was and how small her world — she never drove a car — had become.
We held steadfast to the Thanksgiving tradition even after I moved from Texas to North Carolina some 30 years ago. My parents — biological and Fran and Bill — were kind enough to travel to us during the period after Kate and the twins were born and we made it back — sans Nicholas — to Texas a couple of times when they were children.
Twenty years ago, in November 2003, my mom, dad, Fran and Bill came to Thanksgiving dinner at our house in Northern Virginia. Nicholas was there too — at the time his mother and I alternated Thanksgiving and Christmas each year — and the foursome and I made the first of many post-Thanksgiving dinner pilgrimages to see the Lincoln Memorial at night.
I didn’t realize at the time that it would be our last holiday with everyone together. Bill died the following April; in 2005, Jill’s mother Betty passed away. My dad and Fran were gone within six weeks of each other in 2007 and Jill’s father Bob died in the winter of 2013, just a few weeks after another family Thanksgiving dinner.
A Memorable Holiday
Over the past two decades, most Turkey Days have been spent with the McFarlands in some form or fashion, either in Chapel Hill or in Northern Virginia. When the kids were still in school, we annually had to make the mad dash home so one or more could perform in their dance studio’s holiday revue, which always kicked off on Black Friday. We also spent several Thanksgivings in New York when Ben was there performing in shows.
My favorite from those years was in 2011. Ben had just started touring with “Billy Elliot,” which conveniently stopped in Philadelphia. At that point, Ginno — one of our “adopteds” — was living in our one-bedroom New York apartment while the “Billy” run ended on Broadway. If we came back to New York for Thanksgiving, Ginno promised he would make us Thanksgiving dinner.
The six of us arrived late Wednesday night with Kim and Zach Manske, who was in training to be one of the Billys, with plans to see the parade on Thursday morning. The adults and Nicholas, who at this point was a freshman in college, embarked on a run to Characters, a much-beloved former neighborhood bar we frequented at the time. Nick joined us, which I agreed to as long as he found us a spot for the parade at 7 a.m. the next day.
At the time, Nick didn’t realize that bars in NYC don’t close until 4 a.m., so needless to say, it was a very short night. And Thanksgiving was a very long day.
Ginno, at this point in his early 20s, did his best Julia Childs as he scrambled throughout the day to prepare the holiday feast. And he pulled it off, making one of the most delicious turkeys we’ve ever had with a recipe he still uses to this day. Nine of us, crammed into a tiny New York City apartment, had a terrific meal together before we all scattered back to our respective places.
If that’s not what Thanksgiving is all about, I don’t know what is.
New Traditions
Today, all four of our adult children are in committed relationships. Nick and Kate are married while Ben and — as of last weekend — Emma are living with their partners. Earlier this year, Kate and Matt had our first grandchild, Marley; Nick and Conner will have a little boy of their own soon.
Since COVID, we’ve spent Thanksgiving together with the McFarlands in Wintergreen, Va., and Nick and Kate have spent the Christmas holiday with their spouses’ families. For us, it makes sense to do it that way, at least for the foreseeable future.
What we do is blend the two holidays — I call it “Thanksmas” — and tip our caps to the birthdays that come in December. We have a small tree, a few decorations, a Thursday morning “Turkey Trot” (I provide tech support), and a Secret Santa exchange among the attendees. (Only Ben’s partner, Gaby, was unable to be with us this year.)
This year, as we’ve come to expect, had some new twists. I went to New York the weekend before the holiday to help Emma and Colby move into an apartment; they and Ben rode back home with me.
Matt’s parents and brother joined our growing brood, as did Jill’s cousin, “Uncle” James. Add in four of the six McFarlands, and we had 18 people in our one-bedroom condo that was retrofitted into an intimate family-style bistro complete with food, beverages, and poorly played sports on television.
On Friday, we held a baby shower for Nick and Conner at a small restaurant down the mountain. Minus James, but with our niece Elisabeth and Zack joining us from Charlotte, the 19 people in the photo at the top of this page were in attendance.
The bear theme at the shower was fitting, considering the small black one that was sighted after he/she invaded the dumpster in our condo parking lot on Thursday. A small piece of garland during dinner caught on fire but was quickly extinguished without damage. Marley, now 9 months, took a brief post-Thanksgiving dinner nap in the dog’s bed; the pets were too busy scrounging for crumbs to notice. And in what seems to be a Thanksgiving tradition, one of the attendees had car trouble.
It was hectic, chaotic, and — believe it or not — lovely and peaceful as well. I left thinking that Thanksmas has a ring to it.
Thank you for sharing Thanksmas with us! I love gatherings at holidays!
Thanksgiving is my favorite! Your post reminded me of all the reasons why. Thank you for sharing ❤️