Thanksgiving can be a tricky holiday when there isn't any family within ten time zones. The Thanksgivings of my youth were always a weekend-long affair where we traveled up to my dad's brother's house and spent the entire time running crazy with his eight children. The dinner itself was simply a pause for food to fuel even wilder hijinks. For me, Thanksgiving weekend will always be a time to spend large amounts of time hanging out with people you really like.
This can be hard to achieve when you've only been in a place for a week (Dushanbe) and don't know anyone, and is even a challenge when you've been in a place for awhile, but haven't found a family that shares your need for a really long day together while the children run wild. This has become harder as we've had more children and have reached a truly intimidating family size. After all, our family itself is larger than my parents' entire Thanksgiving party this year - which included my brother's family and two separate sets of missionaries.
But thankfully, we've known our newly returned friends for our entire tour in Tashkent and they have five boys - which is pretty the much same as our seven children. Brandon and the husband get along well, the wife and I get along equally well, and the children, spanning ages 2-13, also get along well with ours. We're really lucky to have them here with us in Tashkent.
They very kindly offered to host this year, as I'm still stuck with 1 1/3 hands and not up to my full hosting capabilities. In addition to getting out of hosting duties, I was also able to shift most of the cooking chores to my ever-helpful children and husband. Sophia took on the task of pies, making and rolling out all four pie crusts, with the help of a video call from my mom. She and Edwin mixed up the fillings. Kathleen washed and peeled potatoes, and Brandon chopped and mashed them. I made the sweet potato casserole, but used canned sweet potatoes, and Kathleen made the streusel topping (the part I like least). My only solo effort was the rolls.
We actually had a great time cooking together, and with three Truly Helpful children, everything was done without too much trouble. I'm enjoying having older children who are not only capable, but also happy to come and cook with me in the kitchen. We had all the dishes done by ten in the morning, and spent most of the next three hours watching various things bake in the oven while listening to "Thanksgiving music," which Sophia calls repurposed Christmas carols.
When we finally made it to our friends' house, the children were beyond excited to see their friends after eight months' absence. It was almost physically painful for them to stop their playing in order to eat a hasty roll and daub of mashed potatoes before going back to playing games, firing nerf guns, and general hijinks.
The adults were happy to sit and talk, occasionally dodging a stray nerf bullet, and catch up with everyone's doings in the last eight months. Most of the children were old enough to amuse themselves, and the two youngest hardly caused any trouble. I'm happy to be past the days of spending my holidays forcing children to eat food they don't want. It's much more fun to be able to hold almost uninterrupted conversation for hours on end.
After seven hours of food, talking, playing, pie, and a game of Charades, we parted, full of promises for further adventures together. As we drove home, full of delicious food and even better friendship, Brandon turned to me. "That's one of the very best Thanksgivings we've ever had." And I had to agree with him. Everyone was happy to be together and nobody was too stressed out. The children all had a wonderful time. The food was delicious. Nobody had to work too hard. We even got most of the dishes done. On a normal year, it would have made for a great Thanksgiving. But this year, with so much separation, isolation, stress, and fear, it was practically magical. I'm grateful for all the things that worked together to make it happen.