An Unconventional Christmas Dinner at Chopsticks China Bistro

I hope you guys had a very Merry Christmas. This year, Terry and I decided to forgo our usual Christmas dinner traditions. I'm so used to cooking a turkey, dressing, and all the other fixings, but with our current medical issues and work schedules being a little out of sync, we needed a change of pace—something a little more relaxed and stress-free. So, after I got off work, I headed home to change, and we made our way to Chopsticks China Bistro in Peachtree City.

Chopsticks China Bistro has always been our go-to spot for a good meal, but we had never thought of it as a place to celebrate Christmas. As we walked through the doors, the familiar aromas of savory dishes greeted us, and a sense of calm washed over us. The restaurant was tastefully decorated for the holidays, with twinkling lights and festive decorations that added a touch of Christmas cheer.
We were quickly seated at a booth, and the warm, inviting ambiance made us feel right at home. The menu was filled with delicious options, and we decided to start with some classic appetizers: crab rangoons and egg rolls and crispy calamari. As we enjoyed our starters, we reminisced about past Christmas dinners and how different this year felt.

For the main course, Terry ordered the Curry Chicken with fried rice, a dish he could never resist, while I opted for the General Tso's Chicken, one of my all-time favorites since my sister first introduced me to it in my teens. The food arrived promptly, and the flavors were nothing short of amazing. The tender General Tso's Chicken was a symphony of flavors—crispy, sweet, and just the right amount of spicy. Terry's Curry Chicken, paired with the perfect blend of savory spices, made me momentarily forget all about the traditional Christmas turkey and ham. Though I'm sure I will miss the week of leftovers and everything I make with them, like turkey salad and soup.

As we savored our meal, we couldn't help but feel grateful for this small, yet meaningful, change in our holiday tradition. It reminded us that Christmas isn't just about the big, elaborate dinners or the perfectly decorated trees—though we have one hell of a decorated tree at home. It's about being together and finding joy in the little moments, even if that means enjoying a delicious Chinese feast.
We finished our dinner with a couple of fortune cookies, which seemed fitting for our unconventional Christmas celebration. The fortunes inside were simple yet poignant, reminding us to cherish every moment and look forward to the future with hope and positivity.

This year, our Christmas may have been different, but it was perfect in its own way. And who knows—though I do love my traditional turkey dinner—maybe this will become our new alternate holiday tradition. It's a reminder that sometimes, the best memories are made when you least expect them.

A Heartfelt Christmas Memory: Daddy Decorating Our Yard

Inside our house, Christmas was a cozy and laid-back affair. My mom, sister, and I would decorate the tree or engage in some kind of Christmas craft, like painting cookie dough ornaments. But outside, it was a different story entirely. Armed with a hammer, nails, and our old Christmas tree lights, my dad would transform our home into a mini winter wonderland. Although his intentions were heartfelt, his patience often wore thin, and he’d drop more colorful language in one night than most people do in a lifetime.

My sister, Becki, holding me steady on the ledge of our house on Easter Lane, circa 1980

Over the years, his vision for our yard evolved. It all started with a few wreaths made from a discarded artificial Christmas tree he found at the dump, with working hurricane lanterns filled with kerosene hanging in the middle of each. He then moved on to tacking Christmas lights to the eaves of our house and building large Christmas trains and presents out of old wood for the yard. He was a true genius with wood. One year, he made life-sized wooden cutouts of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs—though I never quite understood their connection to Christmas, they were still awesome. My dad's woodworking skills weren't limited to discarded manufactured wood either. He created all of Santa's reindeer, including Rudolph, from logs too green for firewood and thick branches from various trees being cleared from the vacant lot near our house. My only regret is not getting decent photos of my dad's handiwork each year. I don't believe photos exist for every year, just a few scattered among photo albums that my mom and sister had.

In addition to making our yard festive, there were nights when Daddy would load us up in the car or his truck, and we’d drive around Mobile or Pensacola, through neighborhoods admiring the lights on other people's homes, or through heavily decorated parks. Sometimes we’d drive over to see if the USS ALABAMA Battleship Memorial Park was lit up, though I can’t recall if it ever was back then. My memories have faded a bit over the years. I'm not sure if Daddy was just looking for inspiration or if he truly enjoyed taking in the sights of other people's creations, but it seemed like every time we returned home, he’d add something new to his display. He would work from October through December, gathering ideas from magazines like Ladies' Home Journal, Southern Living, Family Circle, and countless others.

By the time New Year's Day arrived, Daddy would have the decorations down and already packed up and stored in our storage room in the house. I dreaded that day because it meant the season was over until the arrival of Thanksgiving.

These memories of my dad's dedication to creating a festive atmosphere are some of the most cherished of my childhood. They remind me of the joy and magic of the holiday season, and the lengths to which my dad went to make it special for our family.

Letters to Santa: A Holiday Tradition and a Deep Personal Story

 

Writing letters to Santa was always a cornerstone of my Christmas season. Mama had a unique way of making Santa seem like he was my real grandfather. It was a bit ironic because I did have a grandfather—Mama's stepdad, whom we called PawPaw. Although PawPaw was distant with me, it seemed a mythical being was more family to me. But as a kid, I never knew any better.

One of my earliest memories is sitting on Santa's lap at Springdale Mall when I was about 3 or 4 years old. I was so shy that I forgot everything I wanted to ask Santa for, except GoGo Boots. I think he misunderstood and I got cowboy boots instead. Years later, at 16, I found myself sitting on Santa’s lap again, this time at Macy’s in NYC. I was homeless then and told him I wanted a place of my own. I don’t think the Macy’s Santa understood completely, but he said he would do his best.

Not me but that was my style at 16, though different hair

Mama loved Christmas, and our house was always filled with Santa decorations. Watching Miracle on 34th Street gave Santa a definitive story in my mind, reinforcing the magical aura around him.
My letters to Santa started out like any other kid’s—filled with lists of toys and gifts I wished for. But over time, they evolved into more. They became a place where I poured out my thoughts and feelings, almost like a journal.

I remember one year, in third grade, our teacher Mrs. Kell gave us an assignment to write a letter to someone. I wrote to Santa. Mrs. Kell, who was supposed to be a family friend, wasn’t pleased. She told me Santa wasn’t real and made me write another letter to someone else. I chose PawPaw, but it was my grandmother who wrote back, not him.

Despite Mrs. Kell’s disbelief, the cookies we left out for Santa were always eaten, and the milk was always at a lower level in the morning. To me, that was proof enough that Santa was real.

One of the most personal letters I wrote to Santa was when I was about 9. In it, I came out to him, telling him I was gay and that I was being molested by a neighbor two doors down from me, the father of a girl in my same grade. I wondered if Santa hated me for being gay. Writing that letter was a vulnerable moment, but it felt safe to share it with Santa, as he would understand and possibly give me guidance to make the abuse end. I never got the guidance, but at the age of 12, it did end.

Even now, though I don't write letters to Santa, I still believe in the spirit of Santa and the magic that surrounds his character. The spirit of Christmas and the joy of those childhood memories fill me with warmth and wonder every holiday season.

A Very Special Christmas 1 & 2 Music Review Celebrating the Season

The holiday season has always been a magical time for me, filled with cherished traditions and fond memories. One of the most enduring and beloved parts of my festive routine has been listening to A Very Special Christmas 1 & 2. Released to benefit the Special Olympics, these albums feature a star-studded lineup of artists and have become beloved holiday staples since their release.

I still remember the first time I heard A Very Special Christmas 1. It was a chilly evening in December, and I was at our neighbor's house just before Christmas. The moment the Pointer Sisters' "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" came on, I was hooked. The album is a perfect blend of holiday classics and unique renditions by some of the most iconic artists of the time. Tracks like Whitney Houston's "Do You Hear What I Hear?" and Bruce Springsteen's "Merry Christmas Baby" quickly became favorites. The mix of upbeat songs and soulful ballads made it an instant classic in our home. The album's artwork, designed by Keith Haring, features a vibrant red background with a simple yet striking image of a mother holding her child, adding a visually festive touch to the musical collection.

Then came A Very Special Christmas 2, which only added to the holiday joy. I was thrilled to hear Tom Petty's "Christmas All Over Again" and Debbie Gibson's "Sleigh Ride." Each song seemed to capture the essence of the holiday spirit in a way that felt both nostalgic and fresh. Randy Travis' "Jingle Bell Rock" and Aretha Franklin's "O Christmas Tree" are standout tracks that have me singing along every time. This album continued the tradition of bringing together a diverse group of artists, making the Christmas season even more special. The artwork for this album, also by Keith Haring, features a festive green background with a simple, joyful image of three angels, perfectly capturing the spirit of the season.

These albums were not just about bringing joy through music; they were also created with a purpose. The proceeds from both A Very Special Christmas 1 & 2 were directed to benefit the Special Olympics, making the listening experience even more meaningful. Over the years, these albums have raised millions of dollars, supporting athletes with intellectual disabilities and promoting inclusion and empowerment through sports.

Over the years, these albums have been the soundtrack to countless holiday moments. From wrapping presents and baking cookies to cozy nights with a cup of hot cocoa, the music of A Very Special Christmas 1 & 2 has been there through it all. The joy and warmth these songs bring are unparalleled, and they never fail to evoke a sense of nostalgia and happiness. Whether it's the unique blend of artists or the timeless appeal of the songs, these albums hold a special place in my heart.

As we approach another holiday season, I'm excited to once again put on these albums and let the music fill my home with festive cheer. They remind me of the magic of the holidays and the simple joys that come with this time of year. If you haven't yet experienced the charm of A Very Special Christmas 1 & 2, I highly recommend giving them a listen. They're sure to become a beloved part of your holiday traditions, just as they have been for me.

Nostalgic Joy: My Lifelong Love for Catalogs at Christmas

The Christmas season was always a special time in my house, despite my parents' relationship being a bit of a struggle, to say the least. Mama and Daddy always made sure to make it special for my sister and me. While there was plenty going on on TV as well as the radio, I would sometimes spend hours next to the Christmas tree, at the kitchen table, or in my room flipping through catalogs, making lists for my upcoming letter to Santa. Back when we lived in our little yellow rented house on Easter Lane in Mobile, Alabama, my parents began to collect catalogs from stores like JC Penny, Spiegel, Montgomery Ward, as well as the holy grail of catalogs, Sears—most notably, the Sears Wish Book.

The catalogs never seemed to be thrown away even after they were outdated, and they followed us from the yellow house to the house we moved into two doors down a few years later, and also when we moved to Pace, Florida. Each year, new additions would arrive, inspiring more Christmas wishes for me. I tried to preserve the catalogs as best I could, never marking in them unlike most children who circled what they wanted. Instead, I made lists, noting the store, catalog number, page number, a description, and the reason I wanted the item. Although I knew I wasn't going to get everything I asked for—sometimes not a single thing on my list—it was still a fun and exciting activity that filled me with holiday spirit.

After I left home, my love for catalogs remained strong. While many of the catalogs from stores of the past are no longer printed due to the businesses going under, focusing on brick and mortar sales or simply transitioning to online sales, I still occasionally receive catalogs. Companies like Ginny's, a part of the modern-day Swiss Colony and Montgomery Ward, still send out catalogs, and there's also the massive book from a company that seems to tickle everyone's funny bone, Fingerhut. I also enjoy looking at the old catalogs on pages like Wishbook Web, where I can relive those nostalgic memories and daydreams.

Even as an adult, I find joy in flipping through these catalogs, reminiscing about the simpler times when I'd dream of Christmas gifts by the light of the Christmas tree. The tradition of catalog browsing may have evolved, but the magic it brings remains the same. Whether it's making lists or just admiring the variety of products, catalogs have always been a source of excitement and holiday spirit for me. How about you? What were your favorite catalogs?

A Secret Date at 13: National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation at University Mall

One of my all-time favorite holiday movies is National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Every holiday season, I make sure to watch this 1989 classic. It perfectly blends the chaos of the holidays with family fun, and it never fails to make me laugh.

I have a really special memory associated with this movie. It was one of the first movies I went to on an actual date. I was 13, and he was 12. The funny part is, it was a daytime date with the son of one of my mom's co-workers. Our moms had no idea it was a date—they just thought it was two kids going to see a movie. My mom drove us to University Mall in Pensacola, dropped us off, and went shopping.

We watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and I remember laughing so much at all the crazy things happening to the Griswold family. After the movie, his mom picked us up in her little Yugo. We were sitting in the back seat, still giggling about the movie. I often wonder if his mom saw us sneak a kiss back there. It's one of those sweet, innocent memories that makes me smile every time I think about it.

A blue Yugo just like the one his mom drove

Whenever I watch the movie now, it takes me back to that fun and innocent time. The movie itself is just as hilarious as ever. Clark Griswold, played by Chevy Chase, trying to create the perfect Christmas, only to have everything go hilariously wrong—it's so relatable. We’ve all had those moments during the holidays when things don't go as planned, and that's what makes it so funny and endearing.

And while Christmas Vacation is my holiday go-to, I also love Vegas Vacation. It was filmed not long after I worked in Las Vegas, so it always reminds me of my time there and brings back great memories.

Thinking about all this just makes me appreciate the movie even more. It’s not just about the laughs, but the memories tied to it. So, if you haven’t seen it in a while, or if you’ve never seen it, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation is definitely worth a watch. It’s sure to bring some holiday cheer and maybe even remind you of your own special memories.

The Childhood Christmas Play That Sparked My Passion for Acting

One of my most vivid childhood memories is participating in a Christmas play at our local church, the Pleasant View Baptist Church in Mobile, AL. This performance took place when I was in kindergarten, and it stands out for several reasons, not least of which was my role and the experience that came with it.

I was chosen to play the grandson of a man who read a Christmas story to the congregation. This might sound like a simple part, but for a five-year-old, it was quite a responsibility. My primary task was to sit on his lap for a significant portion of the performance, and while that might seem easy, it presented its own unique challenges.

Firstly, his breath was not exactly what a child would enjoy—a blend of menthol, peppermint, cigarettes, and whiskey, probably to take the edge off his own nerves—something that I distinctly remember to this day. Maintaining a starry-eyed, attentive expression while dealing with this was no small feat for my young self. Additionally, I had to stay awake and engaged throughout the entire reading, which lasted about 35 minutes. For a kindergartner, this felt like an eternity.

Despite these hurdles, though I was not exactly into "church," the play was a significant part of my early Christmas experiences. It embodied the spirit of community and the festive season, bringing together families and friends to celebrate the holiday in a meaningful way. The traditional decorations, the familiar faces of the congregation, and the excitement of being part of a performance all contributed to a memorable occasion.

Since I didn’t really have a grandfather in my life, I thought of the man as being my real grandfather during those moments and beyond. I would seek him out before church services just so I could sit with him. I can't remember his name, but he was a good sport and went along with it to the point that I think some of the church members truly believed we were family. This experience sparked my interest in wanting to be an actor, and perhaps even a singing actor. The support and encouragement from the congregation and my mama helped build my confidence and appreciation for the traditions that make the holiday season special.

Later in life, when I began performing in singing and acting, I would always think back to this experience and thank my "fake grandfather" for going the distance with his role. Looking back, I realize that this early experience was not just about the performance itself, but also about the confidence it instilled in me. The support and encouragement from the congregation and my mama helped build my confidence on stage, many years later. Every time I stepped into the spotlight, I carried with me the lessons learned and the sense of belonging fostered during that memorable Christmas play.

My Journey to Mastering the Thanksgiving Turkey, my very first time

Learning how to cook a turkey was something I never thought I could do as a kid. Though my mom's turkey was always dry, I liked it because I knew no different. I thought turkey was supposed to be that way. My teen years were spent shuffling between leaving home and brief stints back at home living with my dad. My dad was not exactly what I would call a cook; he mostly ate what my sister would bring him, fast food or cooked chili, using his special ingredients added to Chili-O mix—ketchup.

After I returned to stay with him for a few months in 1996, I knew Daddy wasn't going to have much of a Thanksgiving. So, I went out to Delchamps on my bicycle and bought a turkey, along with Stove Top stuffing (which I stopped using after learning how to make my mom's dressing) and a few other fixings that would fit into my backpack. I really had no clue what I was doing in the kitchen, but I remembered little things from recipe books from the '50s and '60s that I had read at the library in Milton, Florida, while looking for things to talk about on the radio show my friend Charlie and I did.

When my dad returned home from work the night before Thanksgiving, he shook his head and told me I wasted my money on all of that and might as well just order us a pizza or wait for my sister Becki to bring us a few plates from her husband's family's get-together, which I knew she would do for him as she had done before. I was determined to make this work. 

I got up early Thanksgiving morning, just as my mom did when I was a kid, and fired up the oven. I went to work using the knowledge from those ancient recipe books. I put a lot of the tips together, and though each one seemed odd and dated and was never mentioned in the cooking instructions of that Butterball turkey, they somehow made sense. Some of the cooking tips included using margarine rather than butter on the skin, as it would allow the skin to hold the juices in without burning as quickly. I also baked the turkey upside down for two-thirds of the cooking time and then flipped it over for the last third, figuring out the logistics without burning myself or tearing the turkey apart was a challenge in itself. Another tip was to forgo basting and pour two cartons of chicken or vegetable broth into the bottom of the pan, allowing it to steam the turkey. I then reused the broth to make gravy and add flavor to the dressing. By noon, I pulled out the turkey one final time and took my chance at cutting it open to serve it alongside brown-and-serve rolls, cream-style corn, Stove Top stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy that I had prepared. 

I was very proud of myself, and Daddy seemed to be very impressed that I proved him wrong. To this day, I can still hear his voice when he told me that for as long as he knew my mom, she couldn't manage to master cooking a turkey, but here I was, a pro on my very first try. Years later, my Thanksgiving meals have grown. Though I still only cook for two, I cook enough for myself and Terry to eat on throughout the week, including his favorite (and not mine), Green Bean Casserole. I use the leftover turkey to make broth, which I freeze to use for other dishes throughout the year. Thank you for hanging out with me today and reading this memory and I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving today while I am working, the airport never closes.

Cherishing the Tradition: Writing Christmas Cards with Heart

Writing Christmas cards is one of those cherished holiday traditions that evokes fond memories of my childhood. I can vividly recall my mom sitting down at the dining table, the scent of pine filling the room, and classic Christmas music playing in the background. With a full box of cards from Woolworths, TG&Y or K-Mart and a Bic pen in hand, she would spend days writing heartfelt messages, often filling each card with entire letters. It usually took her two or three days to complete every card in the box before sending them out, ensuring that each one was a personal touch of holiday cheer.

I always admired my mom's ability to express so much in her Christmas cards. She had a talent for connecting with people through her letters, hopefully making every recipient feel special. In contrast, I found myself struggling to write more than a line or two. For years, I simply signed my name and Terry's name, feeling somewhat inadequate compared to my mom's eloquence. However, over the past few years, I've made a concerted effort to improve. While I may not yet match my mom's lengthy missives, I've started adding more personal touches to each card, hoping to capture some of that warmth and connection.

One thing I've noticed in recent years is a trend where people will only send a card if they receive one first, and some have stopped sending them altogether. It made me wonder if there's an unspoken obligation or need for reciprocation when it comes to holiday cards. Personally, I believe that writing Christmas cards should come from a place of genuine holiday spirit rather than a sense of duty. For me, it's about maintaining a tradition that I cherish, regardless of whether I receive a card in return. It's a way to reach out, share some joy, and let people know they're remembered during the festive season.

I continue to send Christmas cards to the same people each year because I love the tradition. It's a small, meaningful way to spread a bit of happiness and keep the holiday spirit alive. As I sit down to write my cards, I think of my mom and the care she put into each one. While I may never write entire letters within my cards, I hope that my efforts bring a smile to the faces of those who receive them. After all, it's the thought and the heartfelt intention behind each card that truly matters.

A Holiday Tradition and a Dream Come True: Miracle on 34th Street and Visiting Macy's

Every family has its cherished holiday traditions and every year around Thanksgiving, my mom and I had a cherished tradition of watching "Miracle on 34th Street" with Natalie Wood. It was our signal that the holiday season had officially begun. The film, with its timeless charm and heartwarming message, always brought us closer together. I would scour through the TV guide each week, looking for every time the movie would be on. One of the best parts of having cable, albeit basic cable, back in the 1980s was the fact that certain movies that would air once a year on network television would sometimes play on a cable channel more frequently. Each time it would air, we’d cover up in the living room with a few afghans she had crocheted, popcorn, and big glasses of lemonade, and lose ourselves in the magical world where Kris Kringle proves to everyone that he is the real Santa Claus. Natalie Wood’s portrayal of the skeptical little Susan added just the right amount of innocence and wonder, making the movie even more special for us.

The tradition of watching "Miracle on 34th Street" wasn’t just about the movie itself but also about the love that both of us shared for the film. We laughed, we cried, and we believed in the spirit of Christmas just a little bit more each year. It became one of those rare constants in life that I could always count on, no matter what else was happening. The scenes set in Macy's particularly captivated us, and we often talked about visiting the iconic store as well as Gimbels someday. We also tried watching the 1973 version of the movie, but it just didn’t have the same magic, and we didn't care for it at all.

That dream came true when I was 16, in the summer of 1992. After finally making my way to New York City, I marveled at the facade of the Majestic Theatre, the famous home of "The Phantom of the Opera." Then, I walked ten blocks to visit the real Macy's on 34th Street. Though my mom wasn't with me, the experience was magical. Macy's on 34th Street was much larger than I could have ever imagined. In the area where I grew up, the largest stores were the two-story anchor mall stores like Sears, DH Holmes, Gayfers, Montgomery Ward, McRae's, and JCPenney. Macy's vibe was incomparable to those stores, though DH Holmes, before being bought by Dillard's, seemed like a mini version of this great store. Even the Macy's locations in Atlanta paled in comparison. During my time in New York, I found myself in Macy's more often than any other store because it was so massive that you could spend an entire day there and still not see everything.

I would intentionally take the wooden escalators because they somehow made me feel more connected to the 1947 film than the modern escalators with metal stairs. Though Macy's prices were higher than what I was used to paying for clothes, I did a lot of shopping in their Young Men's section. Even now, almost 50, I find myself gravitating toward the same section in any store. Plus, it was well air-conditioned, which was a welcome relief during the hot summer days.

After I briefly left New York following my "accident" with Richard Rogers, being back in Florida felt so foreign to me, even though everything was exactly as I remembered. One thing I always loved as a kid was walking around the mall during Christmas. The two malls in Mobile, Bel Aire and Springdale, as well as University and Cordova in Pensacola, went all out in different ways to make their decorations more festive than the next. When I returned to New York in November of the same year, I wasn't prepared for the feeling I got while walking through the city, which had transformed into a Christmas wonderland. The moment I turned the corner and saw Macy's all decorated for Christmas, stepping into those grand doors with the store readied for the upcoming holiday season felt like stepping into the movie. The festive decorations, the hustle and bustle of shoppers, and the sheer size of the store were overwhelming in the best possible way. Regretfully, part of the wish my mom and I had could not be fulfilled completely, visiting Gimbels. Gimbels had gone out of business half a decade before I made it to New York. However, not all was lost, as the A&S Plaza, now called Manhattan Mall, was open for business on the original site where Gimbels once stood. While not the same, it was still very magical to me.

I couldn't pass up the chance to see the real-life Macy's Santa Claus either. I waited in line among children of different national backgrounds, which I absolutely loved, all with the same goal as me: to have a magical moment with the magical man, even if he was just an employee of the store. I declined a photo because I thought I would always remember the moment in my mind, but 32 years later, I wish I had gotten one to share the magic with you, my readers, my family, and everyone else I know. I couldn’t help but think back to all those years of watching the film and how it had sparked this moment of excitement and fulfillment.

AI version of sort of me with "Macy's"

Standing there in Macy's, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for the shared moments with my mom. The store was as magical as I had imagined, but the true magic lay in the memories we created together, both on screen and in real life. I wish I had shared this story with my mom before her passing; I feel she would have loved hearing about my visit to Macy's and how she contributed to the magic I feel each year during the holiday season and beyond. I also would love to hear her try to sing the tune the little Dutch girl sang with Santa Claus in the movie once more. Though my mom didn't know the words, she did her best to sing along to "Sinterklaas Kapoentje" and it always cracked me up. Visiting Macy's was the perfect culmination of our holiday tradition and remains one of my most treasured memories. "Miracle on 34th Street" continues to hold a special place in my heart, not just as a classic film, but as a symbol of the enduring bond between my mom and me.

Thanksgiving Memories: A Look Back at My Childhood Celebrations

With Thanksgiving just two weeks away, I find myself reflecting on the holiday traditions of my childhood. This year has been a whirlwind of medical appointments for both Terry and me, along with work and the usual hustle of life. Amidst all this chaos, I’m incredibly grateful for the much-needed vacation we took back in March. Cruising from Miami to the Dominican Republic, St. Thomas, Tortola, and the Bahamas was fantastic, even though we came back with COVID-19. But today’s post isn’t about this year; it’s about the Thanksgivings of my childhood.

My mom always had the best intentions in the kitchen, even though she wasn’t the best cook. She did excel in certain areas, and she always tried to make Easter, Christmas, and Thanksgiving special for our family. This sometimes included our extended family, mainly my Aunt Beverly and Uncle Gene. Mama loved turkey, but she never quite mastered cooking it; it was never undercooked, just dry. Despite using the instructions on the label, the turkey always came out that way. When I started cooking, I managed to get it right the first time. My dad was amazed, noting that after 20 years, my mom couldn’t perfect it, but there I was, nailing it on my first try. I spent a lot of time at the library in Milton, Florida, reading old cookbooks from the 1950s and 1960s. These books had plenty of tips and recipes, especially for making a whole turkey, which families cooked year-round back then. One essential tip that turkey labels should include is to pour a generous amount of chicken or vegetable broth into the pan to keep the turkey moist from the start.

Mama mainly stuck with ham for Christmas and Easter, but she knew my dad and I loved turkey, so she felt obligated to make one at least for Thanksgiving. I’ve always preferred turkey over ham, even if it’s dry. But I do enjoy ham too.

The week before Thanksgiving, Mama would already have done all the grocery shopping. She made the cornbread for her dressing a few days in advance and started baking sweets the night before. Pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and sweet potato pie were her specialties. Her sweet potato pie used the same ingredients as the pumpkin pie, except she substituted sweet potatoes for canned pumpkin. Both were amazing. Mama also made divinity, fudge, and a fruit salad with fresh and canned fruit. Her fudge was delicious, old-fashioned fudge, but she loaded it with pecans, which I hated. I was never a fan of nuts due to their texture. I loved her divinity too, but it was also filled with pecans. I learned to suck on a piece until it melted in my mouth and then spit out the nuts. My dad hated when I did that and would slap me on the back of my head, but it worked for me.

Thanksgiving morning, I’d wake up to the smell of coffee brewing. I loved coffee back then, but my parents didn’t allow my sister and me to drink it. Becki, my sister, recently told me our parents thought it was bad for us. I suspect they were worried we’d use up too much sugar and milk. I drink black coffee and always did when I snuck a cup, so they had nothing to worry about. I watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while Mama worked in the kitchen, preparing turkey, cornbread stuffing (ingredients similar to those found in the Better Homes and Gardens and Paula Deen cookbooks), candied yams, green beans (never green bean casserole), mashed potatoes with giblet gravy and other fixings.

After the parade, Mama, Daddy, Becki, and I would sit at the kitchen table, stuffing ourselves with everything Mama cooked. We were always grateful for her ability to make everything but the turkey so amazing. After dinner, we’d shower, get ready, and head out to a Christmas tree farm to find the perfect tree. Return home and stuff ourselves again before decorating the tree before heading to bed.

In one of my upcoming blog entries, I'll be sharing all about our adventures at Christmas Tree Farms and our quest to find the perfect tree. Stay tuned!