In the spirit of unfounded but undaunted optimism, I had ordered my 2 heirloom organic turkeys for Thanksgiving weeks ago. One of our families couldn’t make it on TG, so we had planned on an outdoor, distanced pod gathering this past Sunday. Then, of course, reality set in. Our wonderful doctor in the family gently let us know that it would not be a great idea — and even technically illegal, given the California restrictions right now.
Granted, when I’m hosting a family get together, I rarely get to chat for long with anyone, but that’s besides the point. It’s the feeling of providing, of seeing happy faces, and hearing the burble of laughter and chatter. And eating. I love turkey on the holidays, although there have been some vegetarian dishes over the years that had me glued to them, not the turkey.
Now all that had become a faded, unrealistic dream. So, I cancelled the event. Sigh. I felt so disappointed and sad. But only briefly. Instead, I got creative. I thought about how great our neighbors were, seldom seen between friendly chats: the ones across the street who always were ready to take care of mail and papers when we briefly escaped to our shared bayside cottage; the new neighbors who have offered to shop for us sheltering seniors; our oldtime neighbors, with whom we’ve exchanged so many wildlife notes over the decades and whose loved one now could be seen often in her lone walk around the block, absorbed in her receding world, reacting uncertainly to my warm greeting. And so it went. Neighbors like these are the ones who are family, when your kin aren’t around. And they weren’t that far away.
I ordered one turkey instead. Then I emailed my neighbors, offering them pre-Thanksgiving packages: slices of roast turkey on a bed of stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce on the side. A treasured essence of the feast. Packaged in all those like-new plastic takeout containers I can’t bear to throw away, but clean and store instead. I let my neighbors know that if they didn’t respond, I wouldn’t bring any. [Some people don’t like turkey; I understand.]
Then I got to work, making my apple raisin stuffing spiced with nutmeg and cinnamon [I even briefly toyed with the idea of chocolate chips — no, seriously!], and then stuffing the 11 pound bird both front and back. I decided this year to safety pin the flaps together to keep the stuffing in — it worked. Who knew? I’m saving those pins for next time.
I was born unorthodox, which is why I bake my turkey, generously dusted with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, with the breast side down, in a half inch of water. What I end up with is a broad expanse of to-die-for crisp skin on top, and succulent breast meat on the bottom. The rich broth gets reduced to a flavorful gravy. The results were no different this time.
As dusk settled, with packages in hand, we walked around the neighborhood distributing our gifts of thanks. It reminded me of the expectant joy of Halloween, but this time I was giving instead. It finally dawned on me that I was very consciously exercising the “Giving” option that follows the Happy Thanks. We met them halfway, or placed the package on the doorstep, rang the bell, then stood back. Mutual gratitude was exchanged. The landscapers gave us a plant in return; a bottle of freshly made wine came from another. But the best present we received was the joy of giving and appreciating our neighbors.
We had no control over this pandemic, but I had plenty of control over how I was going to be happy this Thanksgiving, and I did not disappoint me. I am blessed with loving kinfolk and a loving husband by my side, and that has allowed me to reach out and spread that love. And that brought a lot of happiness.
I urge you all to take control of your happiness also by spreading the feast of love to the people you can reach. It doesn’t have to be turkey, and it’s not like you need to know your neighbors intimately. The native Americans, even if the story is apocryphal, were also the seldom seen, little known neighbors of the new world settlers. But we can all agree to let love, understanding and collaboration triumph this season in our thanks to everyone connected to us.
Happy ThanksGiving!