Pumpkin pie, cherry-apple pie, broccoli casserole, our traditional stuffing, mashed potatoes mixed with sour cream. Thanksgiving was two weeks away but I was already planning the menu. We always had dinner at my house.<\/p>\n
My youngest son lived 300 miles away, but I could always count on my son Bruce and his family who lived just an hour away.<\/p>\n
I was going over the grocery list again in my head as the phone rang. It was Bruce\u2019s wife, Elsa. She was calling to talk about Thanksgiving, but I couldn\u2019t believe what she was saying.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean you\u2019re not coming?\u201d I said. \u201cNot coming on Thanksgiving?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe want you to be our guest this year,\u201d Elsa said. \u201cEric will be home from college and Carlos is bringing his girlfriend and a few stray friends from his apartment building across town. Of course Alex can\u2019t wait to see you. It\u2019ll be fun.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was shocked, confused, and most of all hurt. A guest at Thanksgiving?<\/em> Thanksgiving was always at my house.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s too much work for you, Mom. You come down here and let us treat you,\u201d Elsa said. \u201cWe\u2019ll eat around four o\u2019clock.\u201d<\/p>\n I always served dinner at 2:00. \u201cFour\u2019s too late,\u201d I said. \u201cYou know I can\u2019t drive after dark.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou can spend the night.\u201d<\/p>\n Obviously they didn\u2019t want any part of my Thanksgiving. \u201cI just won\u2019t come,\u201d I said, and hung up.<\/p>\n I tried to distract myself with housework, but it was no use. All I could think about was all the years I\u2019d worked to make the perfect Thanksgiving for my family. I threw down my dust rag in frustration.<\/p>\n Over the river and through the woods to grandmother\u2019s house we go\u2026<\/em> The old song ran through my head. But nobody wanted to go to grandmother\u2019s house this year.<\/p>\n That night Bruce called. He sounded almost as angry as I was.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not being fair, Mom,\u201d he said. \u201cWe want you here. You can help with the cooking. But it\u2019s time we started some of our own traditions. Don\u2019t spoil it for all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n Much as I hated to admit it, my son had a point. I\u2019d started my own Thanksgiving traditions when I got married. I couldn\u2019t very well blame him for wanting to do the same. But I don\u2019t have to enjoy it,<\/em> I thought as I agreed to go. Just for one year,<\/em> I told myself. That\u2019s it.<\/em> Next year everyone would be at my house where they should be.<\/p>\n On Thanksgiving morning I packed up two freshly baked pumpkin pies, 24 deviled eggs, some cranberry relish and a flower centerpiece I\u2019d made in a class at church.<\/p>\n With everything secure in my car, I started off to Bruce\u2019s house. Anyone passing me on the road would probably think I was always just a guest at Thanksgiving. They didn\u2019t know I\u2019d been fired as the host.<\/p>\n At the house Elsa pulled me inside. \u201cMom\u2019s here!\u201d she called. Bruce came out of the kitchen full of the smell of baking turkey and ham.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re sharing the cooking,\u201d Elsa said, red-faced from a morning working at the stove. I knew all about that.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen did you get so tall?\u201d I said, giving my grandson Eric a hug.<\/p>\n His brother Alex ran up with a present for me\u2014his school picture in a frame.<\/p>\n \u201cI wanted you to have it,\u201d he said. He pressed it into my hand.<\/p>\n Carlos arrived next and introduced his friends. \u201cHello, Mrs. Graham,\u201d his girlfriend said. She\u2019d brought me a gift, a pretty flower arrangement in a glass bowl. Elsa got one too.<\/p>\n How sweet,<\/em> I thought.<\/p>\n The kids went into the living room to play some games. Elsa and Bruce turned to go back into the kitchen.<\/p>\n Guess there\u2019s no place for me,<\/em> I thought. I just didn\u2019t belong.<\/p>\n Elsa grabbed my hand. \u201cI\u2019m so glad you\u2019re here,\u201d she said. \u201cI need your help with that stuffing of yours. I wanted it to be perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n I could see how much fun Bruce and Elsa were having cooking together. I couldn\u2019t help but get carried along on their high spirits.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat am I doing wrong with this brown sugar glaze?\u201d Bruce asked, struggling with his ham. \u201cThe pineapples and cherries won\u2019t stay on!\u201d<\/p>\n I had to laugh. I helped him secure the fruit to the ham, slather it with glaze and put it back in the oven. Then all three of us went out into the living room where the kids were.<\/p>\n \u201cWe want to hear stories about Dad when he was little, Grandma,\u201d Eric said. \u201cYou know the best ones.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you dare,\u201d said Bruce, but I gave the audience what they wanted. Even Carlos\u2019s friends hung on my every word.<\/p>\n I\u2019d told these stories a hundred times, but somehow now they were funnier than ever. When everything was ready we gathered in the dining room for the holiday meal.<\/p>\n Elsa had set out the meal buffet style. What a good idea,<\/em> I found myself thinking.<\/p>\n When our plates were full we sat around the table where Elsa\u2019s silver candlesticks glowed beside my centerpiece. They looked beautiful together.<\/p>\n \u201cMom,\u201d Bruce asked, \u201cwould you like to say grace?\u201d<\/p>\n All eyes at the table turned to me, as if it were only natural that I should lead the blessing. I bowed my head.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, God, for my family, and this wonderful meal. Thank you for my new young friends, who I would never have met if I hadn\u2019t come here today. Thank you for every one of these angels around the table. Thank you for showing me that being a guest at Thanksgiving has an honor all its own.\u201d<\/p>\n When Carlos and his friends left that night Elsa wrapped up a huge pan of leftovers for them to take along, just as I\u2019d always done for her and Bruce all those years.<\/p>\n The next morning I got my own leftovers\u2014enough to feed me for at least a week.<\/p>\n That was ten years ago and I haven\u2019t hosted Thanksgiving since. I can no longer make the drive to Bruce\u2019s myself, but someone always comes to get me.<\/p>\n It turns out you don\u2019t need grandmother\u2019s house for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is wherever Grandma goes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Pumpkin pie, cherry-apple pie, broccoli casserole, our traditional stuffing, mashed potatoes mixed with sour cream. Thanksgiving was two weeks away but I was already planning the menu. We always had dinner at my house. My youngest son lived 300 miles away, but I could always count on my son Bruce and his family who lived […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":28857,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ep_exclude_from_search":false,"footnotes":"","_wpscppro_dont_share_socialmedia":false,"_wpscppro_custom_social_share_image":0,"_facebook_share_type":"","_twitter_share_type":"","_linkedin_share_type":"","_pinterest_share_type":"","_linkedin_share_type_page":"","_instagram_share_type":"","_medium_share_type":"","_threads_share_type":"","_google_business_share_type":"","_selected_social_profile":[],"_wpsp_enable_custom_social_template":false,"_wpsp_social_scheduling":{"enabled":false,"datetime":null,"platforms":[],"status":"template_only","dateOption":"today","timeOption":"now","customDays":"","customHours":"","customDate":"","customTime":"","schedulingType":"absolute"},"_wpsp_active_default_template":true},"categories":[222],"tags":[63,58,81],"ppma_author":[1283],"class_list":["post-20376","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","tag-autumn","tag-guideposts","tag-thanksgiving"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n