The Giant Turkey Caper
I love the smells of Thanksgiving. The aromas permeate the entire house. I walk around the frantic activities in the kitchen, salivating at the thoughts of the grand dinner that awaits us.
It was always a big family affair. Thanksgiving was about sharing it with my parents, my sister and her sons and families, our seven kids and their families, and our grandkids and great-grandkids their families.
It was fun enough for the grandkids to bring their best friend forever.
My Mom, who was in her late eighties, loved these clan gatherings. Since dad passed away, we did everything to see that she was always included in any family get-together. But Thanksgiving was special. She was an orphan and delighted in the crowds of her own large family. Mom was a lady of great character and dignity. She never left home without being in full dress, white gloves, and any one of her dozens of ladies’ hats and scarves.
It was not unusual to have 40 people at our home. You could always add in a few of our single or ‘away from family’ friends. Chaos is the operative word.
At long last, food was ready and laid out across a long buffet counter. Everyone lined up, plates in hand, and the serious work of piling up the food and heading for the numerous tables would begin.
That’s Thanksgiving time at our home. It has been that way for over 45 years. Mom and Dad and my sister and others have since passed away, and then we moved to the California desert and only saw half that crowd. Usually, we had one of our sons arrive with the kids, and Carol’s sister, who lived close by, would be working in the kitchen with Carol.
On my 80th birthday and we had about 35 of our closest relatives come for a week. However, there was no cooking because we had a Thanksgiving table for the crowd waiting for us at the Golf Club restaurant.
I have always loved Thanksgiving time because I was born on Thanksgiving Day, and coming to dinner at our home also required having a birthday present for me. Nothing big, just something wrapped up and full of love. I recently found out that I was really born on the Monday before Thanksgiving that year. That was a bummer. My Mom fibbed to me. But I loved her too much to ever change things.
We always celebrate the meal with communion, and after communion, each person shares what they are incredibly thankful for that year. Lots of beautiful things pop up in those sharing moments. The kids can come up with some of the most spectacular things.
A few years back, before we moved south, my wife Carol sent me out to Fischer Meat Market in downtown Issaquah to get the turkey and said, “Be sure to get a big one.”
I drove to the market and dutifully asked the butcher working the counter for their most giant turkey. I brought home a 36 lb. bird.
Fast forward to the kitchen scene with my wife, three daughters, my sister, my mother, two sisters-in-law, several daughters-in-law, all hovering over the stove, sink, counters, and all talking simultaneously in 6 different conversations, all understanding everything. It is what women do, especially in my family, where they have a system of communication that no outsider would understand.
Panic erupted when they realized that the turkey was now a solid square and filled the entire oven. They were unable to baste it because there was no room, and now, they had to slide it out to baste it. But this bird wouldn’t slide, and they were all taking turns pulling on it.
Suddenly it popped out, passed my still yanking sister-in-law, Judy, and slammed into the center island. Tom, the turkey, then spun off and slid down the length of the kitchen floor in a run for freedom.
Amid the screaming and my mother’s ‘never heard before hysterical laughter,’ I bounded out of my easy chair by the fire, grabbed the comforter on my chair, threw it over the turkey. I dove at the errant bird, landing on top of it as it bounded onto the carpeting and into the family room.
I lay there on the floor atop this ‘375 degrees’ hot big bird for a very brief second before I jumped off it at twice the speed of the said bird.
The house became stone silent. I looked up and noticed that my wife’s eyes were dark red, and little bolts of fire were shooting out from them.
Little gasps of suppressed laughter kept snorting out of Mom’s nose. She snorted. I had never heard her snort before in all my life, and it distracted me for a few seconds as she grasped the edge of the island and tried not to fall.
I gazed into the kitchen from my seat on the floor and saw deep silence for the first time that whole day. It was a grim moment. All the men stood around the scene in utter fear, knowing that a laugh right then would affect their marital peace for some time to come.
I slowly stood, went into the kitchen, put on the oven gloves, picked up the now defeated turkey, and carried it back into the kitchen.
I carefully held it out on the counter before my wife like it was some spiritual offering. She grabbed the largest hatchet knife I had ever seen and hacked the thing into pieces.
She looked around the room at the silent stares with wild eyes. Then she threw the turkey pieces back into the oven and slammed the door. Mom snorted.
It was unusually quiet at the Decker Thanksgiving table. We had the actual meal scheduled for 3 PM, and it was now 6 PM.
We had to open another bottle of wine for the communion. Someone drank the first bottle. Not sure, but I think it was Mom. During our sharing time, I said that I was most grateful for being allowed to live that day. No one smiled. Mom’s head was in her napkin as she slowly lowered her head on the table.
As I drove my mom home that day, she squeezed my hand and said that it was the best Thanksgiving she had ever experienced. That’s why I was a momma’s boy my whole life.
Now we have moved back north, living in NE Redmond, close to family and friends again. It is Thanksgiving and birthday time once again.
Yesterday, Carol advised me that I must go back to Issaquah on the day before Thanksgiving and pick up the Turkey she had preordered at Fischer’s Market. Fear has set in. I think Mom just snorted up in heaven.
As a complete aside, I have opened a new blog site, Old Ned’s Blog at https://oldneds.blog/ where I will be adding all my ND posts that are a part of the wit and wisdom rolling in my thoughts. I hope you will enjoy reading some of the articles. I just loaded one you haven’t read and will slowly bring on about 50 of my best. Whenever I do post one on ND, it has been updated, and new thoughts added.
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