Tough to Top This Thanksgiving (Description Essay)

As we sit in the comfortably sized lounge in my Grandparent’s quaint, little home, talking and laughing together, I take another sip of my steaming coffee. The strong, rich flavor is highly complimentary of the meal we just finished eating, and I relish every drop of it as my tongue bathes in its bitter essence. My Grandpa reclines in his tan, tweed chair as he recounts a story of when he and my Grandma were younger. I sit on their blue and cream denim, floral couch and listen with intent, soaking up the rich family history that seems to be never ending.

As we listen, we relish the aftertaste of the delicious, mouth watering, smoked, spiral ham that tickled the taste buds. It had encouraged us to pile more slices onto our plates that were already heavy laden with nourishment. Our family’s traditional Seven Layer Salad had been presented in exquisite, picturesque form. The beautiful, crystal bowl that had been in our family for at least three generations held the salad, and all seven layers were clearly visible. It started with torn, green lettuce at the bottom, and then chopped celery and red pepper as the sixth layer. Green peas produced the fifth layer, and for the fourth layer there was miracle whip mayonnaise. Then there was sour cream and grated cheese for the third layer, baby tomatoes for the second, and finally a sprinkle of crispy bacon on the top layer of the salad. The combination of these ingredients was delightfully complimentary and we savoured every single bite. Celery, olives, and bread served as an enticing accent to the meal. These were just a few of the many appetizing dishes that were prepared for our meal on Thanksgiving Day. It was pretty good stuff!

With traditional Christmas music humming softly in the background, the faint sound of birds whistling outside the kitchen window, the reverberation of laughter echoing throughout the house, and the sensational, mouth-watering aroma of leftovers drifting into the lounge, it is impossible not to be filled with general festivity. Candles are lit in every room, generating a peaceful atmosphere. The subtle fragrance of the burning wick can be detected, along with the familiar scent of the pine branches on their miniature Christmas tree.

The antique bookshelf, that lines the west wall in the lounge, is filled with books that cover copious amounts of topics and antiques such as porcelain pottery, crystal vases, photo frames that hold pictures of my family that were taken decades ago, and a chess set that has figures fashioned in the likeness of African tribesmen. A picture of a large giraffe hangs on the wall outside of my Grandparents’ bedroom, and next to it sits a large, wooden Austrian cabinet that holds many family treasures. On that cabinet are paintings of flowers, and various hearts and circular shapes are carved into it too. A wooden spinning wheel that appears to be at least ten thousand years old, an antique Austrian chair with a heart carved in the back, an African spear and shield, and an Governor Winthrob desk that has been in the family for generations are just a few of the chattels positioned purposefully throughout the house.

In the kitchen, the fridge is plastered with photos of my brothers, cousins, and sister. Above their microwave hangs a clock with a giraffe pictured on it. Every time I look at it to check on the time, the giraffe seems to wink at me. Humorous articles on Obama are taped to the whitewashed cupboard doors. A basket laden with ripe bananas sits next to the sink, and situated next to them is a much-loved and frequently used coffee machine. Pottery and other such decorative articles are in abundance around the cheerful setting. Over my Grandparents’ round, wooden dining table is draped a white, crocheted tablecloth, and on that sits a rotating wheel, two green candles, and a Christmas plant with red and green leaves. I smile as I remember the stories shared while we ate our Thanksgiving feast, sitting at that same table.

Now, my Grandpa’s tale has reached its end, and he and my Grandma get up to go and get ready for bed. While the day had been exciting and enjoyable, it was time to retire. I rise from my comfy seat, exhausted from the eventful day that was drawing to a close. After I stretch my arms, I walk over to my Grandparents to give them a group hug.

“I love you guys,” I whisper into their ears as I wrap my arms around them like an orang-utan.

“We love you too,” my Grandma replies after kissing me on the cheek, “and we are so thrilled that you were able to spend this weekend with us. We’re so thankful that you are so near us now. We are thankful for you. But now, we better get our feet off to bed.”

As they walked together, two retro beings hand-in-hand, to get ready for bed, I realize how fortunate I am to have such a great family. Sure, my parents and siblings are on the other side of the world from me as they celebrate Thanksgiving in Cape Town, South Africa, but I was able to spend this incredible holiday with my Grandparents instead! That meant the world to them, as well as it did to me. This year was so different, but I was able to undergo this blessed holiday in a fresh, unsullied way. I am thankful for many things, and my Grandparents are of high priority on that unwritten list of things I am most thankful for.