Holiday milestones without Dave are enveloping. Seeing him everywhere but not being able to touch him is emotionally crushing at the same time sharing traditions and being embraced by family and friends allows me to know there is a way forward without leaving him totally behind. He is there with me, pushing me to the forefront where I was always in his shadow.
This would have been the 41st family Thanksgiving we celebrated with Dave's family. Traditions that started when he was a young boy have evolved but continue: there was always the family weekend at a shared beach house; turkey could not be eaten until the sandcastles were being devoured by the sea; the competition of games on the beach and coffee table; the gross excess of food being devoured by the extended family. After another stormy year, with icy wind blowing sand and rain horizontal across the beach, forcing all competition inside and then a massive clean-up effort to make sure the rented house was free of sand and dirt, it was decided that a warm, dry, destination was called for. The annual gathering moved to Palm Springs. The games, long walks and excess of food remained. Sandcastles morphed into Frisbee on the 18th hole and splashing in the pool. The doors and windows could be flung open. Instead of over crowded couches in a damp, sandy living room, all could sprawl out on lounge chairs while renewing summer tans. As great nieces and nephews grew in number the family gathering returned to Eugene. Board games resumed with a new generation of competitors each with their own sets of rules, much as their parents did at their age. Adult competition changed from sandcastles, to turkey and fixings recipes. Father and sons each have to outdo each other with a whole turkey cooked in a different way. Along with the three turkeys are the three types of stuffing; three sweet potato dishes and; deserts too numerous to count. The rumored score cards did not materialize but winning praise was sought by all the chefs - John wins again.
Dave is with me as I type. I can see clearly him reveling in the jet rides to California just as he reveled speeding along the winding roads to the coast with expectations of sibling competition, food and comradely. I can see him coated with sand and sea foam, trying to walk off a huge meal against the blinding winds just as easily as I see him in a food coma on a lounge chair by the pool. These images will never disappear.
Thanksgiving is the most important holiday of the year for my sister. With five daughters, the traditions are quite deep and often baffling. The turkey can't be eaten until the jigsaw puzzle is complete. Destruction of the carefully created gingerbread houses is the celebratory finale. Until the past three years, I have spent Thanksgiving with Dave's family so was new to the traditions but quickly insimulated. Last year Dave slept on the couch as the holiday chaos swirled about him. He had missed the previous year but wanted one last time with my family. The trip exhausted him but he felt the warmth of the love around him.
Linda and Chuck started a new tradition this year: "Giving" bags. We made 170 bags to give to those less fortunate than us. Each bag included, a wash cloth, bottle of water, pair of socks, chocolate milk and energy bars. Each family went home with a huge box of these bags to hand out.
Now the gingerbread house destruction - it seems that when the girls were little, someone snuck downstairs in the middle of the night and destroyed her competition for the best gingerbread house. Upon finding it in the morning, revenge was taken. It appears that destruction of you competitors creation is a highlight of the day. I was quite shocked when I first encountered my beautifully created gingerbread house, smashed to sticky crumbs before my eyes. But just as the sea destroying painstakingly built sandcastles, for some reason carnage is integral to both Brown family Thanksgiving gatherings.
An assortment of gingerbread works of art:
First mine which I was immensely proud of my creativeness...
but then I was declared a "cheater" because I used a store-bought Santa and Reindeer. Everyone else created with the myriad of sweets and pretzels on the table.
There were 12 gingerbread structures. Each was hastily flattened - many before I could get pictures of them.
The best part of gingerbread house demolition...
I am blessed to be enveloped by two families where shared love, competition and unique traditions continue as family members die and new generations join the fold.
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