A Very Quirky Thanksgiving
A holiday poem by Debra Karplus
Snuggled up, the six of us, In Dad’s gas-guzzling car,
The drive to Aunt Florence’s seemed incredibly far.
Grandma was there, and as always, Aunt Rose, too
The routine was the usual and we all knew what to do.
When we arrived the windows were steamy, as courses of mediocre cuisine
were served to thirteen of us, chattering about nothing of significance, in between.
The radiator clanked, as blue-green parakeet Tipi the bird
Was let out of his tall vertical cage, but no one complained or said a word.
Uncle George shared hair-raising tales of his cigar store on Chicago’s south side.
After eating, he’d pop out his dentures, as he smiled real wide.
Bessie and her hubby, clumsily but proud, demonstrated the latest dance steps they’d learned.
And a brand new real-to-real tape recorder captured every word.
The ride home cozy cuddling against Mom’s thick furry coat was divine.
As Dad navigated traffic along Chicago’s Lake Shore drive.
A generation later the event moved up north
To the condo clubhouse in Glenview, hosts Mom and Dad came forth.
The younger generation gave a freshness and vitality to turkey day.
More guests yet less work, sharing tasks was a much fairer way.
The video cam engraved in time, rap songs that were written, then sung
And of course the family pyramid, the youngest kids balanced on the top rung.
There’s now four generations, as the family has grown so much.
Thanksgiving Day celebrations now have a scattered touch.
The newest fifty-somethings with growing families of their own
Are hosting the November holiday in their respective homes.
We’ve come full circle with steamy windows and homemade food.
Gathered in a home enjoying the celebratory mood.