Writer's Workshop: Thanksgiving at Home
“Ding-Dong!” The echoing chime of the doorbell rang throughout the lofty entryway of my Aunt Cathy and Uncle Bob’s inviting home. My family and I waited outside under their front porch in the chilly November air. Rocky, their rambunctious dog, jumped up from his cozy bed and sprinted toward the door, where he anxiously wagged his tail in anticipation; he peered curiously through the expansive bay windows to see who had arrived at the house for our family’s traditional Thanksgiving dinner. As Aunt Cathy swung open the shiny black front door, a wave of heat enveloped us as a crowd of relatives welcomed us inside. Once a showering of warm embraces was given to all, she ushered us through the kitchen, where the smell of a delicious turkey roasting in the oven wafted into my nose. As we made our way into the living room, where many of our family members were gathered, the din of conversation turned into a rousing chorus of, “You’re here!” and “Happy Thanksgiving!” I remember my older cousins scooping me up and hanging me over their towering shoulders, hugging my aunts and uncles, and eagerly running over to greet my grandparents. Though Aunt Cathy’s house is only about 15 minutes away from my home and I visit her frequently, on this particular day, her house felt like a completely new place because so many relatives had traveled from far away to share this time as a family. My cousins who are my age immediately grabbed my brother’s and my hands and guided us into the mysterious basement, where they had been playing a game of hide-and-go-seek to keep them busy until dinner was served. After what seemed like hours, we finally heard our parents calling to us to come upstairs for dinner. As I walked into the festively-decorated dining room, my eyes were drawn to the masterpiece of the table, a gorgeous, golden-brown turkey surrounded by steaming dishes of buttery mashed potatoes, crisp green beans, fluffy biscuits, and a delectable tray of apple and pumpkin pies for dessert. We all joined hands around the table as my grandfather blessed the meal and gave thanks for the time that we could all share together. After the “AMEN!”, we passed our plates like an assembly line, reaching across the table and piling them high with our favorite foods. As I plunged my fork into the rich stuffing, I savored my first bite, but not as much as I still savor the memory of my childhood and the time I was fortunate to spend with each of them at this special time of year.
The month of November is always much-anticipated in the Felice household. It is the true beginning of fall weather in the south, college football is approaching Bowl Game season, my birthday is coming up, and the fourth Thursday of the month promises the most incredible time of fellowship with my family. My mom's side of the family has always gathered together for Thanksgiving and would trade locations each year, alternating between each of her siblings' hometowns. Before I was born, my mom and dad, her parents, and her four other siblings and their families would all travel and stay for several days, just having a time of fellowship together. My grandfather, all of my uncles and my dad were athletes, so they often organized a schedule of 3-on-3 basketball games and would keep my older boy cousins (who were in elementary school at the time) fully active and busy. My mom was always close with her sisters and her mother, so they would enjoy being able to spend time with one another as they prepared meals and went on outings around town. The actual Thanksgiving meal usually ended up lasting about 2 hours because everyone simply enjoyed having a sanctioned time to sit around the table catch up on each other's lives without the chaos of everyday schedules. However, one unusual tradition of the Thanksgiving dinner, affectionately entitled "The Roast" came after the actual meal had taken place. Once everyone had been served coffee and dessert, my grandfather would begin making his way to a central location in the room. Once he had the attention of everyone in the room and all of the grandchildren had been quieted and/or occupied, he would pull out several folded-up sheets of paper from his pocket. This "Roast" had nothing to do with the delicious turkey or even a certain blend of coffee; it was a hand-written account of his and my grandmother's experiences when they had gone to visit their children throughout the year. My grandfather was never the type to "sugar-coat" things; he was one of the smartest, most honest, and most sarcastic men I have known. His "Roast" encompassed ALL details of their trip~ the good and the bad! My mom's family enjoyed this time simply because they could all laugh together as they experienced the hilarity of my grandparents' travels in vivid detail.
My experience with "The Roast" has unfortunately only been through home video reruns because my grandfather passed away when I was ten years old. Even though he and my grandmother lived about 5 minutes away from my family and we shared many different experiences throughout our seven years of living near one other, the memory that I can always recall is my observation of the way that Grandpa would interact with each of his grandchildren when all of us gathered together for Thanksgiving. This was really the only time all year when we could all be together and the house was always chaotic, yet I remember him taking full advantage of the time to spend at least a little while with each of his grandchildren. He would talk to my older boy cousins and my little brother about their different sports, teased my cousins Jacky, Christin, and Cameron (the sassier of the girl grandchildren), and was always so kind toward me and my cousin Erin (the sensitive/shy girls!) He knew exactly how to cherish each of his grandchildren, which will forever be a sweet memory of the time we shared together.
September 20, 2012
As I looked at some of my "Ideas and Inspirations", I focused in on my first picture of a sleeping baby girl snuggled in a cozy blanket. I was immediately drawn to this image because of my strong desire to become a mother. I appreciated this photo because I could tell how tenderly this baby's mother had prepared her for the picture and paid attention to making her comfortable. The blanket covers the top part of the baby's head and frames the rest of her face, which makes her look like she is "peeking" out of a cocoon. A perfectly-positioned white ribbon-headband crowns her head of soft, wispy hair and functions as a purely decorative accessory. The muscles in her face are relaxed and her mouth is closed, but there is a trace of a smile dancing across her lips. Her peaceful appearance of pure contentment indicates that she is simply happy to be cared for and safe. The innocence of this little girl is precious and unmarred by the bombardments of the world. My prayer for her is that she is able to look back at these pictures when she grows older and is going through a period of self-doubt or conflict.
October 11, 2012
I created a "found poem" on wordle.net and pasted the following quotes from my Pinterest "Inspired By..." board to create the image below.
love anchors the soul. the lord will fight for you; you need only be still. i will not let______consume me; i will live out my calling. not all those who wander are lost. if you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely. the best is yet to be. in all things it is better to hope than to despair. why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out? we must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. let your faith be bigger than your fear. rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. to be yourself in a world that constantly makes you try to be like someone else is the greatest accomplishment. i will be grateful for this day.
October 25, 2012
"YOU CAN'T..."
When I take time to think about the meaning behind this phrase, my idyllic and immediate response is "Give me a chance to show you that I CAN." However, I feel that this is really not an accurate view on the way that I am holding onto an unhealthy lifestyle. Before being diagnosed with an eating disorder, I felt like I had everything under control and that nobody could tell me when or what to eat or how much I should exercise. Basically, I wanted to prove that I could be the best at having an eating disorder and no one could tell me otherwise, saying "I CAN control everything." What bothers me right now is that I have realized that my control is not really my own thoughts; the eating-disordered thoughts have overtaken areas of my life and have prohibited me from truly experiencing freedom. I can recognize the lies behind my eating disordered-thoughts, but I still hear this other voice inside of my head literally telling me "YOU CAN'T... eat a snack, go out to dinner, gain weight, miss a workout, etc. The problem is that I have allowed myself to become accustomed to these ideas and I have developed a bit of a defeatist attitude toward recovery because I have not been able to declare that I CAN overcome these unhealthy thoughts. What I want to work on is separating my thoughts from the lies espoused by my eating disorder. When I am able to say "I can change", I know that I will be going against the compelling and appealing voice that tells me that I can't (and "shouldn't") change because I will be outside of my comfort zone. Taking steps in the right direction by gradually changing my eating habits and receiving encouragement from family, friends, and accountability partners are hopefully going to inspire me to fully believe that I CAN.
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