Unfortunately, this is the only photo I have from Thanksgiving 1990.
Sometimes you have only one photo from a whole day of celebration. And sometimes that’s actually all you need to be able to tell the most important story of the day.
When Phil and I were growing up, our family always made the two-hour drive to Pennsylvania to spend Thanksgiving with the extended family from my Dad’s half of the union. Those were good times: at least four generations of family all piled into Aunt Doo Doo and Uncle Ron’s house to catch up with one another and eat obscene amounts of delicious food. But then cousins started getting married and having their own children, and the families that made up that big group started breaking off to celebrate Thanksgiving in smaller units.
So in 1990 our family stayed home and had a cozy turkey day on our own. We no doubt started the day by going to Mass and then came home to spend hours cooking “the fixins.” Here, everything is ready to go—Dad even carved the turkey before this photo was snapped—and we’re about to dig into the feast. Seeing as the importance of this day is to recognize what’s most dear to you and count them as blessings, I think this one photo summed up the day perfectly!
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