The memory that stands out in my mind about Thanksgiving is the double dinners.
When I was a kid both my grandparents lived within thirty minutes of our house. Late Thanksgiving morning, my parents, my three sisters, and I would pile into our car and head to my mom’s parents for Thanksgiving lunch.
Thanksgiving lunch was, of course, a full-blown Thanksgiving feast, and we kids would gorge ourselves. Then around four o’clock, we’d pile back into the car, which didn’t seem as roomy as before, and head to my dad’s parents.
Thanksgiving supper at my paternal grandparents’ house was a full-blown Thanksgiving feast. My sisters and I did our best to gorge ourselves again, but we just didn’t have the stomach space.
Over the weekend, we would return to my mom’s parents to eat leftovers. Or, as my grandpa said, “Just put on my tombstone: ‘The leftovers did me in’.”
What are your favorite memories of Thanksgiving?