FIRST PERSON | My family is small and has always been so. Growing up, Thanksgiving was usually a quiet affair with only my mom, dad and brother in attendance. I always thought it should be something larger, a coming together of multiple generations to salute our family.
I looked forward to the day when my family had grown. I could picture us girls gathering in the kitchen to tend to the family meal. I finally got my wish this past year. Looking back, it was bittersweet.
Thanksgiving in 2011 was perfect to me. My eldest was home from the military with his family. My youngest son and his wife came and my daughter was home as well. We four women enjoyed a bit of bonding as we roasted a turkey, baked a ham, made homemade bread and pies from scratch and the grandchildren constantly ran underfoot. The house was bursting at its seams.
The food was perfect, the company on best behavior and I had my perfect big family holiday.
This year, both boys and their families are too far away to come home. We are back to the small tight-knit family unit, yet I am thankful to have experienced my dream just once.