Thanksgiving was always the most special holiday in my family when I was growing up. It was the one time of the year when everyone would gather, aunts and uncles and cousins, to spend the day together, eating and talking and enjoying each other. It was the only time all year that we ate in the dining room instead of the kitchen, putting all the leaves in the table so it would seat everyone. It was also the only time we used the good dishes, a delicate Wedgwood bone china that my parents had bought on a trip to England. We would have hors d’oeuvres in the living room first. Olives, marinated mushrooms, smoked oysters, and other delicacies, with brightly colored toothpicks to spear them all. I first tasted smoked oysters as a child on Thanksgiving, and I have loved them ever since.
I’m not sure if we ever talked about politics at the dinner table. It’s possible that we did, especially during the Vietnam Era, but I don’t have any recollections about it. Even if we had, there wouldn’t have been much arguing, since we all had essentially the same political views. It may have taken my father a little longer to get to the point of thinking the war was wrong, but I know he got there, and I don’t remember any trauma related to it. The only family member with a totally different political view was my uncle Ed, who was a rabid pro-Soviet communist. In his eyes, the Soviet Union could do no wrong, to the point where he wouldn’t even admit that there was any anti-Semitism there. He even went to Moscow every spring for the Mayday celebrations. But for the most part, nobody engaged in argument with him. Except for once. I was in college, taking a course about China, and totally smitten with Chinese communism, which was at odds with Soviet communism at the time. He and I had an argument about which was better. But it wasn’t at the dinner table, it must have been before or after. Neither of us convinced the other, but I don’t think there were any hard feelings.
The last of the consecutive family Thanksgivings we had, where everyone in the entire extended family showed up, was in 1977, when my niece, the first baby of the next generation, was six months old. After that it seemed to be too hard to gather everyone at that time of year. Twice thereafter my parents and sisters and I gathered at my middle sister’s house in Colorado, but it didn’t include the cousins. Two decades later, in 1999, we had one more Thanksgiving gathering of everyone (Featured Image), because my nephew’s bar mitzvah was that weekend, so we stuffed ourselves with turkey on Thursday and danced the horah on Saturday. Later on, during the years when my two older kids were in college on the East Coast, and it didn’t make sense to fly all the way across country for four days, they went to my oldest sister’s house in Brooklyn for the Thanksgiving vacation, and my mother was there too, and the rest of the New York branch, and I was very thankful that they still got to have a family Thanksgiving even if I wasn’t there.
At any time of year, I am grateful to have the family I do, both the one in which I grew up, and the one I have formed as an adult. Each member is a loving, thoughtful, intelligent person with whom I enjoy spending time. I am particularly thankful, in the wake of our recent election, that we all share the same political views. Two of my kids have come home this week for Thanksgiving, and last night at dinner they talked about how some of their friends did not want to go home because their relatives are Republicans and supporters of the unmentionable one. The “bifurcated family” has been a big topic on college campuses and elsewhere in the past two weeks. The front page of today’s Sacramento Bee has a story on tension at the Thanksgiving table, with the headline “Dreading heated turkey talk? Take politics off the plate.” EmilyPost.com is hosting a live holiday etiquette hotline on Thanksgiving morning for people who don’t know how to handle political discussions this year. Far more than ever before, political differences could cause permanent schisms now.
It’s nice to know that we don’t have to worry about a scenario like that in our family. Everyone, from my 95-year-old mother to my little great-nieces, is of a like mind about everything important, and I am extremely thankful for that.
Postscript: On Thanksgiving evening, my 30-year-old nephew (the one who had his bar mitzvah in 1999) sent out this group facebook message to our entire family: “My dear, dear family: Happy Thanksgiving to you all! On this Thanksgiving, I am grateful that in our entire family there is not one person who thinks the election result wasn’t horrible. It’s one of the many things that makes our family special and unique. I hope you’ve all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I also hope it wasn’t our last.”