A Covid-19 Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. The mere thought of the day conjures aromas of my mom’s succulent roast turkey, delicious dressing, mustard greens and sweet potato pies, scents that filled our home every Thanksgiving morning. By 1:00 Thanksgiving afternoon, we were joining my mother’s siblings and their children for a feast to end all feasts. A family set-up crew arranged table after table, one each for meats, sides, appetizers and desserts, and several rectangular tables for dining. By 3:00, it was chow time.

The delicious spread was a main attraction, but more important was the reason for the occasion. Thanksgiving was our family’s day to express corporate thanks. It was a time to thank God for each other and all He had done, to be grateful for our lives and God working in them. Nearly 100 family and adopted family members assembled every year for food and fellowship. All ages - infant to octogenarians, local and out-of-state - gathered in the home of the family member brave enough to host this vast group for a cherished three/four hours spent eating, reconnecting, laughing and watching football games. We looked forward to Thanksgiving.

Then came Covid 2020, bringing life as we knew it to a halt. Full stop. Cancelled family gatherings. No soul food feast. No Thanksgiving memories. The loss is indescribable - underscored by the fact that an aunt and cousins tested positive for Covid-19 last week.

Covid-19 forced us to reimagine Thanksgiving and group gatherings. Now I spend more time on the telephone, connecting with family members. My siblings and I have begun scheduling monthly Zoom calls. This week I sent dinner via mobile delivery to family members stricken by the coronavirus. That’s a start, but it doesn’t come close to replacing what I’ve lost. I’ve lost a lot.