Heritage

I think Thanksgiving boils over with heritage (like my sister's something-or-other-that-pertains-to-mashed-potatos always boils over).  We celebrate the holiday three times in my family (Mom's side the Saturday/Sunday before, immediate family on Thursday, Dad's side the Saturday after), and each even brings a little something unique.

My aunts, uncles, cousins, and cousin's children fill Anderson Thanksgiving with a little bit of crazy, indicative of the overall heritage that I'll carry with me from that branch of my family tree as I move forward in life.  We run around with my seven-year-old cousin, play games with my cousin's baby, and chat it out with my closest cousins, while my mom and her two sisters laugh and goof-off in the kitchen.

Early Thanksgiving feels quieter, more conversational.  Sure, with a ten-year-old and twelve-year-old pair of siblings, we have a good Nerf war or hopscotch competition (my creation), but all-in-all the difference in noise level between 11 people on the Early side and the 20 attendees on my mom's side is appaulling.  And nestled into the Early side, you find docility, gentleness, support.  These characteristics - along with the genealogy records and antique sewing machine that I brought home yesterday - shape the heritage from this side of the family.

From my immediate family, I draw uniqueness, newness, forward-thinking, as we spend the day cooking up new (in some cases healthier) Thanksgiving dishes, going for a walk in the Arboretum, and putting up Christmas decorations.  From that heritage, I feel comfortable in my vegetarianism while owning my Southern blood.  Our family's a mash-up of tradition and innovation, and THAT more than anything will travel with me as I go to college and ultimately move to start my own family.