It’s Thanksgiving and 14
of us are on the Cape to celebrate with my parents.
This year, my nephew Jason
brings his fiancée. It’s as if she’s been coming for years.
My mom has set two tables,
laid out appetizers, and lit a fire. It
looks like a scene Norman Rockwell should have painted.
The main course rarely changes;
there is no reason for it to — it’s what we all love. We overeat (some more than others) on turkey,
my mom’s stuffing that’s been passed down from her mom and contains carrots and
corn flakes and is the best I’ve ever had, peas, cranberry sauce, mashed
potatoes, condiments, and multiple berry pies and homemade cookies.
Then it’s football, where a
divided group watches the Patriots demolish the Jets (3 touchdowns in 52 seconds
during the second quarter). But even
that can’t diminish a spectacular day.
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