Favorite Memories of Thanksgiving: What Are You Doing Today?

What's  your most vivid Thanksgiving memory? Was it when you dried out the turkey... overcooked the stuffing? Was it when your husband got into a quarrel over politics with your Uncle Fred? Or was it when something truly lovely transpired? And what are your plans today?

Here are a few thoughts and memories. Please add your own in the comments section, or email me at Shelley@patch.com. And, above all else, enjoy your Thanksgiving Day!

Mayor Jerry Fried: "We have a small Thanksgiving gathering this year ... my oldest son has been in the Peace Corps in Uganda since February (we're visiting him over Christmas/New Years) and my middle son is away also, interning in Chicago on a leave of absence from Skidmore. It's only my sister, my mother, Karen, and my youngest son. No football, just Scrabble, the classic feast, and family."

Montclair Township's Director of Communications Katya Wowk: "Although I enjoy Thanksgiving as a holiday, and I did miss it while living in New Zealand and celebrated it a month 'early' as a grad student in Toronto, any fond reminiscence I may harbor of the holiday, most definitely does not include turkey. You see, I was born on Thanksgiving Day (oh so many years ago) and, growing up, every birthday celebration always involved an enormous roasted turkey. My mother's roasted turkey. My mother's roasted turkey probably most closely resembles poultry-flavored particle board. As a kid, I simply couldn't comprehend anyone's fondness for the bird and the thought of another turkey dinner on yet another birthday when I would have much preferred a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or even a bowl of cereal, tended to spoil the event for me just a wee bit, at least until dinner was over. Now at Thanksgiving dinner when I'm asked what part of the turkey I'd like, it's 'no thanks, pass the pierogis, please' for me."

Heidi von Schreiner: "When I was in college in Boston, my family would travel down from Vermont to meet at my Uncle Bill's house in Chestnut Hill for Thanksgiving. Uncle Bill and Aunt Jensie are the epitome of prep right down to the tennis racket wallpaper in the study, and the thermostat set at a puritan 60 degrees. Truth be told, Aunt Jensie was not much of a cook but it was a lively crowd and we enjoyed ourselves a great deal. My favorite was always my Great Uncle Bob, a retired Princeton professor who lived on Cape Cod. While we were dining, our tradition was that we would go around the table and each family member would recount one thing that they were thankful for that year. The responses were all pretty expected. Good health, being together, love of family, and friends etc. But when only Uncle Bob was left, he chimed in "I'm thankful that dessert is next!""

Carol Selman: "Sometime in the second half of the twentieth century I was about nine and my mother's baby sister and her husband had just expanded their small house in Clifton. Thanksgiving was at their house instead of ours that year, good news for me. Mom and I still got to cook the side dishes—I liked cooking even then--but there was less to do otherwise.

"I was deep into my girl detective phase, and house crazy—I was also book crazy, reading everything in the house and at the Orange Public Library. I was reading and rereading Mom's old copies of "Cheaper by the Dozen" and its sequel "Belles on Their Toes," both set in Montclair. 

"These interests all came together on Thanksgiving, as my youngest aunt and her family were in Clifton. I got Dad to drive the back roads from Orange through Montclair and Glen Ridge so I could investigate the books' locale.

Thanksgiving  was great. My older brother was a teenager and at the adult table. Four of my younger cousins  and I had a table to ourselves, get this, in the new rec room in what had been the basement. I was in charge. Perfect."

Tara Chowaniec: "My most vivid and memorable Thanksgivings would have to be any time my uncle Buddy (My Mom's brother) was able to attend. Because he was a chef and lived in the US Virgin Islands, we did not see him all that often, and even less at holidays. But every now and then he'd manage an appearance, and while the house was turned upside down and very chaotic, we would feast pretty well and pretty long into the night."

Josie Zeman: "I was married to a man who grew up in New Hampshire, where Thanksgiving is a MAJOR event. You must include all the vegetables that are traditional in New England: including creamed onions, which I had never heard of before. I tried making them, but they were not very good. The following year I went to the grocery store and bought the frozen Green Giant version, figuring he would never know the difference. But I couldn't fool him! I never tried compromising on the creamed onions again and learned how to make a passable version from scratch."

Linda Federico O'Murchu: "When I was in college and in my early-mid 20s, I always spent Thanksgiving at the official family headquarters in Pennsylvania. A lot of extended family would show up, older relatives I didn't know that well, which always made me feel nervous and shy. I hadn't grown up with them, and anyway, New York City was like a different planet compared to Easton, Pennsylvania, right? I felt that my relatives would never understand why I didn't have a sensible job, or wasn't married or took photos in war zones or traveled half-way around the world with cats.

"Feeling awkward and alone, family reunion jitters took hold of me every Thanksgiving. This went on for years, until the day when I simply told myself to stop being idiotic. I realized that, invariably, my great aunt and uncle were sweet and cheerful and did everything they could to make their guests feel welcome. My cousins, whom I'd sort of turned into strangers in my mind each year, were extremely kind when I came face to face with them, and were genuinely interested in hearing about my life. The football game, my uncles' bad jokes, my aunts who were always bustling around the kitchen—it was all so comfortingly familiar.   

"At the end of the night I'd always leave their house with Tupperware containers in my hands and a warm feeling in my heart.  Their ability to be effortlessly gracious was something I was so grateful for -- and something that, in my youth and shyness, I never really able to express to them.  Now that I'm older and have my own home and family, I host my own Thanksgiving celebration. And though a lot of my older family members are gone, I hope that when people who come to my house for Thanksgiving they leave with a warm heart, too.

"Even today, words can't express how thankful I am for my darling family and all the blessings of my life.  But perhaps my son Paolo said it best when he was very small: 'I am thankful for chocolate and God!' "