Friday – A Thanksgiving Without Bratwurst
Nov. 27th, 2009 11:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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Thanksgiving Day started off with a phone call from my brother in law saying his wife wasn't feeling well and felt like she might be coming down with the flu. This meant that the Thanksgiving Day plans of his wife driving 50 miles out to fetch my mother in law from the nursing home and all of us meeting at my brother-in-laws house would have to be shelved.
"If she's got the flu, I don't want to expose Mom to that," he said, "and I don't want to expose [Sweet Pea] to it, either." I agreed this was wise, and woke up my husband to discuss what we should do instead.
"We can't just leave Mom alone for Thanksgiving," he said, "I guess we'll do what we were going to do in the first place and take a Thanksgiving dinner up to her."
The turkey was already cooked, carved, and ready for transport. Jeff had wanted to cook a turkey since his German born sister in law saw nothing unreasonable about serving bratwurst as the main dish for Thanksgiving Day. But the rest of the feast had to be cooked and assembled, since we were now providing side dishes as well. I had already bought some yams to take over to my brother-in-law's house, since Doris likes them and neither of her son's do. Jeff made some instant mashed potatoes. I assembled a fruit salad, steamed some fresh green beans and made some gravy from the drippings of the turkey. I made some iced tea and put it in a jug, because in Texas and other parts of the American South that is what we drink with our nice meals. Jeff is not from Texas, and he would drink a coke, but Doris is a Louisiana-born girl and I knew iced tea would be a touch she would appreciate. We loaded all the hot food in a cooler and all the cold food in another cooler, and we hit the road about 1 PM.
Like the song says, we did have to drive over a river – the San Jacinto – and through a lot of woods to get to where my son's grandmother lives. Though my sedan is hardly as romantic as a horse-drawn sleigh and her home is not a house, but a very nice nursing home where the residents range from the vibrant-but-impaired types like my mother-in-law, who is partially paralyzed from a stroke she had a couple of years back, to wraithlike elders who stare off into space while they wait to die. We showed up around 2 PM, and Doris was delighted to see up.
The nursing home has a very nice formal dining room just off the main dining room. Since no one had reserved it for the middle of the afternoon that day it was available, though it took the guy at the front desk awhile to locate the key to open it. Once we were inside, we unpacked the feast and I was delighted that the hot stuff was still pretty hot and the cold stuff was still nicely chilled.
"Oh, you went all out, didn't you?!" Doris exclaimed. I wouldn't say that. As far as Thanksgiving feasts go, we brought the bare minimum that tradition allows. Still, after the phone call that morning saying she would be stuck in the nursing home for Thanksgiving Day, she hadn't expected much of a holiday. My son got to push her wheelchair to and from the dining area (since the left side of her body is unimpaired, she can steer him in the right direction and keep him from crashing her into anything or anyone), and she got a lot of compliments from the nurses and other residents on the charm of her 5-year-old driver.
"This was wonderful. This was the best Thanksgiving ever!" Doris told us. "I was so upset after Russell called this morning, but this turned out beautiful."
"You're mom was really impressed," I told Jeff as we were driving back home. "We saved Thanksgiving! Yea, us!"
"Yea, us!" my son echoed from the backseat, "We saved Thanksgiving!"
Sometimes life throws you an opportunity to save the day and be someone's hero. Being a hero sounds like a big deal, but usually it's not as much work as it sounds like. It can be as simple as packing a meal in Tupperware and transporting in an ice chest to someone who was planning on spending a holiday alone. Thanksgiving at the nursing home was a lot more gratifying and fun, I think, than it would have been if we'd spend the day at one noshing on turkey and watching TV. After all is said and done, you realize that the opportunity to be a hero, even a minor one who saves Thanksgiving day for a single person, is one of those unexpected gifts you to be thankful for.
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.
.
Thanksgiving Day started off with a phone call from my brother in law saying his wife wasn't feeling well and felt like she might be coming down with the flu. This meant that the Thanksgiving Day plans of his wife driving 50 miles out to fetch my mother in law from the nursing home and all of us meeting at my brother-in-laws house would have to be shelved.
"If she's got the flu, I don't want to expose Mom to that," he said, "and I don't want to expose [Sweet Pea] to it, either." I agreed this was wise, and woke up my husband to discuss what we should do instead.
"We can't just leave Mom alone for Thanksgiving," he said, "I guess we'll do what we were going to do in the first place and take a Thanksgiving dinner up to her."
The turkey was already cooked, carved, and ready for transport. Jeff had wanted to cook a turkey since his German born sister in law saw nothing unreasonable about serving bratwurst as the main dish for Thanksgiving Day. But the rest of the feast had to be cooked and assembled, since we were now providing side dishes as well. I had already bought some yams to take over to my brother-in-law's house, since Doris likes them and neither of her son's do. Jeff made some instant mashed potatoes. I assembled a fruit salad, steamed some fresh green beans and made some gravy from the drippings of the turkey. I made some iced tea and put it in a jug, because in Texas and other parts of the American South that is what we drink with our nice meals. Jeff is not from Texas, and he would drink a coke, but Doris is a Louisiana-born girl and I knew iced tea would be a touch she would appreciate. We loaded all the hot food in a cooler and all the cold food in another cooler, and we hit the road about 1 PM.
Like the song says, we did have to drive over a river – the San Jacinto – and through a lot of woods to get to where my son's grandmother lives. Though my sedan is hardly as romantic as a horse-drawn sleigh and her home is not a house, but a very nice nursing home where the residents range from the vibrant-but-impaired types like my mother-in-law, who is partially paralyzed from a stroke she had a couple of years back, to wraithlike elders who stare off into space while they wait to die. We showed up around 2 PM, and Doris was delighted to see up.
The nursing home has a very nice formal dining room just off the main dining room. Since no one had reserved it for the middle of the afternoon that day it was available, though it took the guy at the front desk awhile to locate the key to open it. Once we were inside, we unpacked the feast and I was delighted that the hot stuff was still pretty hot and the cold stuff was still nicely chilled.
"Oh, you went all out, didn't you?!" Doris exclaimed. I wouldn't say that. As far as Thanksgiving feasts go, we brought the bare minimum that tradition allows. Still, after the phone call that morning saying she would be stuck in the nursing home for Thanksgiving Day, she hadn't expected much of a holiday. My son got to push her wheelchair to and from the dining area (since the left side of her body is unimpaired, she can steer him in the right direction and keep him from crashing her into anything or anyone), and she got a lot of compliments from the nurses and other residents on the charm of her 5-year-old driver.
"This was wonderful. This was the best Thanksgiving ever!" Doris told us. "I was so upset after Russell called this morning, but this turned out beautiful."
"You're mom was really impressed," I told Jeff as we were driving back home. "We saved Thanksgiving! Yea, us!"
"Yea, us!" my son echoed from the backseat, "We saved Thanksgiving!"
Sometimes life throws you an opportunity to save the day and be someone's hero. Being a hero sounds like a big deal, but usually it's not as much work as it sounds like. It can be as simple as packing a meal in Tupperware and transporting in an ice chest to someone who was planning on spending a holiday alone. Thanksgiving at the nursing home was a lot more gratifying and fun, I think, than it would have been if we'd spend the day at one noshing on turkey and watching TV. After all is said and done, you realize that the opportunity to be a hero, even a minor one who saves Thanksgiving day for a single person, is one of those unexpected gifts you to be thankful for.
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 06:27 pm (UTC)I, for one, took my kids to my in-laws without my husband because he was sick with (what we thought might be the flu but was) a very bad sinus infection, chills, fever, all that.
It wasn't what I planned, Thanksgiving and my daughter's 3rd birthday without him but it worked out ok.
I've been thinking of you
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 07:01 pm (UTC)Happy Thanksgiving to you all. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 08:08 pm (UTC)Other families at the home were dropping off covered paper plates, but no one else seemed to pack up the entire meal and bring it to the hospital for the resident to eat with them. Having done it I can say it's very doable, provided you are able to laugh at any minor inconveniences, such as forgetting the plates because they were sitting on top of the pie you also forgot and then having to ask the staff if you could have some paper plates please please please.
I've been worried about you and your situation, too. We are doing well over here. I'll probably cash out for last job's 401K to pay for Christmas, but we'll make due. :)
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Date: 2009-11-27 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-11-30 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-01 07:41 pm (UTC)