My Thanksgiving tradition

It’s usually around this time in the year that family traditions really become important, at least for me.

See, every year for Thanksgiving, my mom makes the same dishes and we watch the same things on TV. For her, it may simply be because it is easy to remember and there is nothing else really on.

For me, I like to think that it is something special that I will continue to do in my own home when I eventually start a family.

She wakes up early all the time. So, while my brother and I, and sometimes even dad, are sleeping in, my mother is getting the turkey started in the oven.

When everyone does wake up, my mom has the TV tuned to the right channel for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

Let me tell you, I am not much help to my mother when the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade comes on. I am much too interested to see which musicians made it into the event, what balloons will be flying and just how high the Rockettes can kick their legs.

The one thing that can break me away from the parade is my mom’s dressing. I always help her with the dressing.

We’ll mix the cornbread and the seasonings, then all the other ingredients she uses, and I get to taste it. I know how my mom’s dressing is supposed to taste, and she makes it perfect every time.

Once all the dishes have been prepared and either placed in the oven or in the waiting line, we go back to watching the parade and the dog show.

The dog show is the best part. My mother and I don’t know anything about judging dogs, but we do know how to pick out a pretty one.

Plus, much like when we are able to watch the Academy Awards and talk about the dresses on the red carpet, we make our own commentary about the participants. We are not official judges, but we could probably do well in a pinch if they needed us.

My dad and my brother are usually doing their own thing throughout the day. Occasionally, my brother will join us in the kitchen, but he is just not as into making the food as he is in eating it.

One of the last things I have to do, or sometimes the first, after I have eaten and relaxed for the rest of the day is call my grandmother and sing her “The Turkey Song.”

In case you were wondering, here are the lyrics:

“Gobble- gobble-gobble fat turkey, fat turkey,

Gobble-gobble-gobble fat turkey am I,

I’m not here for living; I’m here for Thanksgiving,

Gobble-gobble-gobble fat turkey am I.”

I learned the song when I was about five years old, and every year I would sing it to my grandparents, my mother’s parents. It would make them smile, and make me their favorite grandchild all over again (sorry to my cousins and brother).

About two years ago, I decided I was too old to sing the song. In December of that same year, my grandfather passed away. I ended up singing the song at his funeral, and I promised myself that I would sing that song to whoever wanted to hear it no matter how old I was.

Traditions are important for many reasons. They can allow you to preserve something special to you and your family, and they can help you keep a loved one’s memory alive who may not be with you anymore.

This year, I will not be with my family for Thanksgiving, but I’m going to try to keep my family’s traditions alive, though my dishes will probably end up being just one or two servings compared to my mother’s 11 or 12. I’ll still try to watch the parade and make my mother’s dressing that will not be as good as hers, and I will call my grandmother and sing her “The Turkey Song.”

Who knows, I may end up creating a tradition or two of my own.

Cassie Gibbs is a staff writer for The Southeast Sun and Daleville Sun-Courier. The opinions of this writer are her own and not the opinion of the paper. She can be reached at (334) 393-2969 or by email at [email protected].