truth & thanksgiving

"...The people who give you their food give you their heart."
-Cesar Chavez


Is anything more true in my whole life?

It sounds absurd to say, “I grew up around food” but I did. Good food. Eclectic food. And people who love food. Celebrate with food. Cook. Just open a refrigerator and MacGyver a meal.

As a kid, I was lucky enough to have a hot, home-cooked, more than likely “from scratch” dinner with my whole family. Every night.

For twenty-six years, Home was twenty minutes from all four of my grandparents and most of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. If you stopped at Grammy Helen’s in the morning she’d make you a pancake. If you dropped by Gramma Rose’s she might send you home with a pie, halupki (piggies), or vegetables from the garden. And if you were having steak and needed Grandpa’s garlic all you had to do was call.

If you know me “from Home” you know this. Most likely you’ve been sent home with a plate, tupperware, container or jar. Possibly a crock pot.

For the first time in thirty years I won’t be Home for Thanksgiving, the epitome of food holidays. Can you imagine that? Thirty years. Each with at least two (later three) separate dinners per Thanksgiving. Missing is a little hard to swallow.

Although, I’m nostalgic for tradition and downright depressed about the leftovers, I’m thankful for what NOT being Home means. It means that I leapt and landed, not unscathed, in a new place. It shouldn’t be surprising that a simple, unglamorous, part-time job in a cafe has sustained me. Or that the people I’ve met there include and encourage me. So it's apropos that food is what’s starting to make it feel like home...

"If you really want to make a friend, go to someone's house and eat with him...The people who give you their food give you their heart." -Cesar Chavez

..so thanks, Friends for inviting me to your table.

Happy Thanksgiving


I'll keep you posted.
k8