I like the middle piece of lasagna, the edge of brownies, the tops of muffins, and the bottom of bagels. Still feeling full from Thanksgiving, I am reminded of how fortunate I am: fortunate to have more than one family to sit with at a table and share the bounty of food, and stories, and memories.
Holidays and traditions. We bring some traditions with us from childhood, adopt others from spouses, and create others out of necessity, or the insanity of the holidays. In any case, traditions are what make holidays, holidays.
For most of my grown children’s lives, we have traveled during Thanksgiving to be near families who have opened their arms and homes to us, anxious to fill us with uncountable acts of love and kindness. But the few hours in the car, at least when the kids were little, were trying at best. After a year or two, we discovered a radio station that plays Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant, a piece of storytelling both my husband and I remember well, and adore, from our own youth. Alice’s Restaurant runs for approximately 18 ½ minutes, but seems longer in the car, as we talk about it for most of the rest of the ride.
As the children got older, they came to understand the beauty of satire, along with time spent together, whether around a table, or sitting in traffic on the southeast expressway.
Enjoy your month of traditions
Ps For those of you fortunate enough to know the Alice’s Restaurant story, I hope you appreciate my title. For the rest of you, well, beware of police officer’s named Obie, and the group W bench.