A short… somewhat true… story just so you know you are not alone!
Another Thanksgiving would soon be upon them. Another dinner with dysfunctional relatives would once again etch an indelible memory into Christopher’s and Emily’s mind. Having hosted the holiday for 30 years, the couple had laughed and cried their way through similar scenarios decade after decade.
When Chris’ mom and Emily’s dad were still alive, every holiday dinner was guaranteed to include hours of unrelenting criticism and unneeded histrionics. Although Chris and Emily had long ago come to terms with the idiosyncrasies displayed by their mother and father, their guests had often been served huge helpings of embarrassment along with their stuffing and cranberry sauce. Now that their recalcitrant parents were dining in the afterlife, the family dynamics had changed but not necessarily for the better.
Chris and Emily were already prepared for the theatrics that would begin in advance of the big event. Their expectations included a 3 a.m. phone call from Emily’s older sister, Vicki, on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Vicki was a school teacher who never stopped teaching. There was no topic she could not turn into a life lesson. Neither could she resist answering a question with a quote from a children’s book. Example: Vicki, would you like peas or carrots? Answer: “Both, said the little ducky” - in a most annoying quacking voice.
Through her tears and while hyperventilating, they would hear that Vicki had lost the recipe for the family’s traditional fruit cake. This was not the usual heavy enough to hold the door open in a hurricane fruit cake. The family favorite provided a moist mouthful of raisins, dates and nuts flavored with espresso and sweet vermouth. Chris often said that the cake got better the longer it was left to “ferment” on the kitchen counter.
Normally, baking this cake was Emily’s job because it took two days to prepare the batter and she was the only person with enough patience to do all the chop work. Right around the beginning of October, Emily would buy the ingredients and get out the required bakeware. Five bundt-shaped cakes and five loaf cakes would be baked, cooled, wrapped and frozen for gifting at the holidays. This year Vicki, who had more than a bit of their mom’s attention seeker personality, was determined to take center stage.
And so, as anticipated, at 3 a.m. (on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving --- not in October as was required to give the cake enough time to develop its flavor) Vicki called and insisted that Emily get up and text her the recipe. As it was easier to comply than argue, Emily made her way to the home office, scanned the recipe to her computer and sent Vicki an email. A text, Emily knew, would not have worked. Vicki was not tech savvy – intentionally or otherwise. The recipe would get lost in cyber space when Vicki did whatever it was she did each time she touched a button on her cell phone.
Afterwards, Chris and Emily laid in bed, wide awake, and wagered on what would happen at this year’s family dinner. By early afternoon on Thanksgiving day, everyone would have arrived. Those who did not gather in the living room to fill up on appetizers would be underfoot in the kitchen, offering advice where none was needed. Chris would be heard to expel an audible sigh of frustration and relief when the timer signaled dinner was ready. With a fresh-from-the-oven roasted turkey filling the air with salivatory worthy aroma, Emily would call the gathered sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, aunts and uncles to the table for a live reenactment of the movie Groundhog’s Day.
How disappointed they would be if Chris’ Uncle Rocco did not ask, “Can’t we wait another hour. I’m stuffed!” Aunt Idalia, his wife, would immediately go into attack mode. Right before she whacked him in the back of the head with the TV Guide, she would say, “Just because there were appetizers on the buffet did not mean you had to eat all of them.” This scene played out every year. Much like the Macy’s parade, it was always on the schedule.
In the dining room, the first to be seated would be Emily’s brother-in-law, Steven. He was Vicki’s husband, and Emily loved him both for the goodness of his heart and for putting up with her sibling for the past 35 years. Emily knew that if Steven had not taken his marriage vows seriously, she would be stuck with her sister. Affectionately, Chris and Emily referred to them as The Kramdens. Their banter, although sometimes mean spirited, generated a lot of guffaws during the meal.
Next came Chris’ brother, Rich. Rich was the type of person who believed he was privy to information other people did not know. He was not… mostly because he was also the type of person who could not keep a secret. Whatever he was told, he repeated to anyone willing to listen to him talk. Since he was a bartender, he talked to a lot of people. Twelve years Chris’ junior and bald practically since birth, Rich often received clippings from Chris’ full head of white hair in his Christmas stocking. The family thought it was funny. Rich… not so much.
Next to the table would be Patty and Paul, Chris’ and Emily’s daughter and son-in-law. They would settle their two-year-old son in his high chair before making themselves comfortable. They were great parents. Chris and Emily adored their grandson. He was so smart… smart enough to know that he had his grandparents wrapped around his little finger. No one had ever heard a bad word about him from his Nonna and Poppi -- not even when he took off his shoes and proudly put them in his helping of mashed potatoes and gravy.
One by one, the rest of the guests took their places. When everyone was seated, Chris would stand at the head of the table ready to carve the glorious bird. Emily would stand beside him, prepared to serve their guests. Before she did, she would pause for a minute to look at their expectant faces. Some of them were nearing the end of their days. Soon, their chairs would be empty except for lingering memories. Some still had roads to travel before reaching a rest area on life’s highway. Others were about to take their first steps into an unknown future.
As with all people, they were each alike and each different in their own unique way – a blend of funny and frustrating traits that sometimes caused laughter and at other times tears. Chris and Emily were willing to take the bad with the good because… well, they were family.
Donna Carbone is the Executive Director/Playwright in Residence at the Palm Beach Institute for the Entertainment Arts, where education through entertainment is the mission statement.
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