Nothing looks like Memorial Day, smells like 4th of July, or tastes like Valentine's Day. But Thanksgiving? It's special. It's more than just a title of a day. It's an event. A celebration. A purpose. A style. A flavor. A smell. A candle called "Fourth of July"? That's just confusing. But "Thanksgiving"? You know exactly what to expect. Thanksgiving is its own tidy little cornucopia of family and food and traditions and laughter and memories all bundled together. Everyone's traditions and meals, although varied, at the heart are very much the same. And everyone thinks that their Thanksgiving is "the best". I can't count how many times the words "the best" were used at our Thanksgiving. Our Turkey is surely the best. Our sweet potatoes. Our homemade bread. Our pies. Our centerpieces. Our placecards. Our kids. Even our weather. Better than who? I'm not sure. Everyone I guess. It's the best because it is ours.
It is our children playing in the puddle.
It is our gocart that gets everyone muddy.
It is our Granny's recipes that we try to perfect.
It is our parents and sisters and brothers and cousins and nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles that we just can't get enough of.
Holidays follow us where ever we are. Sometimes we celebrate on the wrong day or in a different way, but holidays are what we make them. So even though I had to go back to work on Friday, I went back home to my parent's house for the rest of the weekend because I needed it to feel like Thanksgiving. I needed to put up our family Christmas tree.
I needed to watch football on the couch. I needed to eat turkey sandwiches and take naps. I needed to go to Walmart on Black Friday. I needed to go for a walk with mom on the Greenway.
I needed to play Phase 10 and have dinner with friends. I needed to watch cheesy Lifetime and Hallmark Christmas movies.
Thanksgiving is a special one. One of the best. Even though I called it Halloween... twice.