The Traditions You Make

I'll preface this week's column with a sincere thanks to those of you who cut me some slack last week with the death of a family friend, and especially to those who left messages of condolence.  It was much appreciated.
Now back to the ranch.
One of my favorite holiday traditions has been to have dinner with my family.
Both my own and the one I married into.
I still remember the days as a child when my paternal grandmother hosted Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas Eve dinner in the finished basement of my grandparents' home.  She did all the cooking herself, because like any good Polish woman of her generation, that's just what you did.  And Grandma prided herself on that.
Then, as the years went by, Thanksgiving was left up to the children, because Grandpa felt that Thanksgiving and Christmas were too close together and it was too much work for Grandma's advancing years.
Then Easter went.  Then Christmas Eve one year, but Grandma missed it so much she pledged to do it until she died.
I'm proud to say that at 91, she still cooks the feast at Christmas.  However, there's no set time to eat.  The food's out if anyone wants to come.
So my dad and stepmom have done the holiday meals in recent years.  My wife Margie and I had kicked around the idea, but never really decided firmly on anything.
Until right before this past Thanksgiving.
Her parents were going to Hilton Head Island for the holiday.  Her brother was having dinner with his own in-laws.  My dad's home is relatively small, not exactly the right size for a sit-down family dinner.
And now that he's retired and on a fixed income, they're getting to be expensive.
I kicked around the idea in my own head, but didn't verbalize it.  But I didn't have to.
Margie beat me to the punch and suggested it.
It only made sense to me, since we have a bigger house, and a non-human dishwasher.  My only concern was the work involved, as my wife will only allow me so much to do, for she likes some things done 'her way'. 
I was in charge of the deep-fried turkey, a rather skilled art I've been perfecting since receiving a turkey fryer in an office Christmas party in 2008.
Two boneless breasts, thoroughly injected with garlic and herb marinade, along with lasagna, cornbread casserole, homemade stuffing, mashed potatoes and rolls, with apple pie and chocolate cake for dessert, it was more than enough for me, my wife, our daughter, my mom and dad and my younger brother.
I'm more than happy to keep Thanksgiving dinner a tradition at my house.  And perhaps Savannah will want to pick it up when she gets older.
I can only hope so.


NEXT WEEK:  Fare Thee Well