Vicki Larson shares how the holiday season changed for her and her family.
I don’t have a favorite holiday, but Thanksgiving is pretty close ever since I convinced my mom to let me bake the pumpkin pie — and it turned out green. Surprisingly and probably unwisely, we ate it. My parents declared it was the best pumpkin pie they’d ever tasted. When I moved to California, Thanksgiving was the first holiday I shared with my future in-laws.
There were just two little ones then. I always brought trinkets, eventually becoming known as Fun Auntie. Soon there were four more, including my own two boys. Somehow, we got the cousins to sit still long enough for an annual photo. Every year, I’d write a humorous poem about each family member’s memorable moment of the past 12 months. Reading it as we gathered at the table became part of our tradition. All that changed in 2004, when I got divorced. We agreed that our boys should spend Thanksgiving with their cousins, aunts and uncles.
My Thanksgivings were small. Three years ago, my former husband’s niece — now a mom in her 40s — invited me to join the family. I was touched. I didn’t write a poem — we hadn’t really been in contact in years although I sometimes heard stories from my kids or former husband.
I didn’t dare bring a pumpkin pie in case it came out green. I did, however, bring a trinket for her tween daughter who I was meeting for the first time. It was a one-off invite, I was sure, but I was grateful. But then there was another invite to Thanksgiving last year, and for Christmas Eve. too.