Why I Get Nostalgic in the Fall – Part Two
In November, the Horn of Plenty, filled with apples, oranges, and tangerines, made its appearance in the house, along with bowls of mixed nuts, unshelled of course, because cracking them as we sat around watching television each weekend, was part of the experience.
Thanksgiving Day was always a special time for our family; at least in the early years, before we all grew up and started moving away. We had a big dinner, even when we didn’t have guests. After all, there were eight of us in our two parents, six kids household. We filled our large, two-leaf table with plenty of food, and when it was just us, we didn’t have to worry about having “the kids’ table.”
Growing up, it was often “just us,” although on occasion we’d be stationed somewhere long enough to get to know another family and join forces with them. I was almost a teenager before I remember having a Thanksgiving gathering that included any of my other relatives. That was after my dad retired from the military, and we settled back in their hometown.
Although I never really missed not having other extended family around during the holidays; and after experiencing the chaos, personality tensions, overcrowding, and the mess that was left behind, I really didn’t understand the fascination of it all; as I got older, I realized there was something else that I actually was longing for. There was something I didn’t think a lot about in my younger years, but by my middle and high school years, I began to grieve the fact that not only did I not have it, but coming to grip with the fact that I never would was hard.
Grandparents!
Long before all of the overdone holiday movies and Hallmark marathons showing families going to their grandparents’ house, there were two times of the year that my friends and classmates seem to talk more about their grandparents than any other time. One was them getting to spend weeks at their house over summer vacation, and the other was going to “Grandma’s house” during the holidays. I only imagined these were things that they really looked forward to, although there were times when they seemed excited, and other times they acted like it was such a chore.
I’ve never been good distinguishing between jealousy and envy, but I’m sure my feelings went back and forth with both when others would talk about getting to hang out with their grandparents; looking forward to eating some of their grandma’s cooking, or working on a project with their granddad.
I didn’t have either. Both of my parents lost their parents long before I was born. My dad seldom talked about his mom and dad. And since he didn’t, I almost never asked. My mom would sometimes talk about her sadness at not having the chance to really get to know her dad (she was only five when he died), and about losing her mom while she was still a teenager. When she did speak about them, you could tell that even through so many years, their absence from her life was still very painful, decades after they were gone. I’m sure my dad missed his parents too, but his childhood was much different, harder, than my mom’s. Maybe that’s why he chose to say very little about them.
I used to think that you couldn’t really grieve something you never had, because if you never had it, then you didn’t lose it, so where was the grief? But the older I got, the more I realized that wasn’t true. There are many areas in my life of things not had; things that I’ve come to realize I’ve grieved their absence.
And not having the chance to have the same kind of experiences and memories that all of my friends had, was one of them. They all had some reference and life experience to one or more of their grandmothers and grandfathers.
As an adult, I think Thanksgiving time is when I miss them the most. It’s weird to say I miss someone I never met, but I do. Many of my friends talk about having their grandmother’s cookbooks with recipes and traditions they’ve passed down through the years. While others post pictures of them with their grandparents from years gone by. I’m also old enough now that not only do most of my friends have kids who were able to get to know their parents, but some of those very friends are themselves becoming the grandparents as their children are marrying and starting families.
I’m happy for my friends, as we all grow older, and shift into different roles in our lives. But as we celebrate another Thanksgiving Day, albeit, a little differently this year than years past, I challenge all who read this to truly be thankful for the little things that don’t typically end up on our dinner table list of “what am I thankful for this year.” Like having parents you were able to get to know. Being blessed to become parents. And living long enough to enjoy your new role of becoming a grandparent yourself.
Thankful, I am, for the decades I had with my own parents, and the years my nieces and nephews got to spend with them. But especially during the holidays, I also try to remember, and even pray for people who may not even know that they may be grieving the absence of something they never even had. May God give them what they need, even when/if they don’t know they need it.
May we all find ways to be thankful for life, love, and living each day to the fullest.
