Happy Thanksgiving

My two favorite holidays are Thanksgiving and Passover.  Both of these holidays mean something very special to me, and it is not because of the food.  Those two holidays always symbolized a time I got to spend with my cousins, grandparents and aunts and uncles.  As I have gotten older, the holidays have changed.

When I was younger we would all go down to my cousins in Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving dinner.  Every year it would rain on Thanksgiving day.  I remember sitting on those long rides, looking out at the turnpike, gray sky deciding if it was going to pour or just drizzle.  Finally reaching those windy lanes before arriving at my cousins house.  I'm not sure if I was more excited to see my cousins, play on the Pinball machine, play old-school nintendo or Ping Pong (without any beer).  Not having any older siblings, my older cousins would introduce my brother and I to all the latest technology.  

It would always take me a while to warm up with my cousins.  Since we usually got there before everyone else, I always felt very shy, due to the age gap.  I had one cousin who was ten years older than me.  I never knew what to say to her.  I remember always wanting to go up and see her room, thinking how "cool" and grown up it looked.  She also had the attic room, which always impressed me.  Then there were her two younger brothers.  There is a five and seven year difference between us.  The age gap never stopped us from playing, it was only made aware when I was sitting at the kids table, and they were sitting at the grown up table.  

My other cousins were closer in age.  One was the same age as me, and his sister is six years younger.  I always felt more at ease with them.  When they would finally get to the house, I would go and play with them.  The six youngest cousins would all hangout together.  We would start in the family room.  Sometimes watching TV, sometimes playing Pinball.  Somehow our hanging out would always turn into the older cousins against the younger ones (and I was always part of the younger cousins).  We would always get chased, tickled to death, or tossed onto/over a couch.  No matter how much we were tortured, we were constantly laughing.  The younger ones trying to retaliate, and failing.  Trying to run upstairs, only to get attacked upstairs.  Trying to attack the smaller cousin/brother, and having it backfire on us.  

After dinner the rough housing would calm down.  We all became sleepy.  Jeremy and I would change into our pajamas.  The TV would be turned on, and a board game taken out.  Parents came down, saying it was time to go (always meaning we had another fifteen minutes before we actually left, plus there was always ice cream!!).

I would give anything to have another one of those Thanksgiving dinners.  I am so thankful for the memories I have.