Ah, the memories.
Holidays at your parents’ house. At your grandparents’ house. Maybe family friends? Relations of some kind or other?
Christmas was always at our house.
My god, the food.
Sicilian delicacies (I’ve learned to cook a few), Italian pastries from Piantedosi’s (haven’t had their like since), and laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.
Thanksgiving was at the Campbell’s in Middleton, Mass. My dad and Al Campbell knew each other from way back before I was born. I remember the food was amazing, non-stop, and the pies…oh, my god, the pies! As the day wore on, Mrs. Stocktin would play piano.
I can’t say she was my first piano teacher. She did teach me how to play Chinese Checkers (is that still around? Probably under another name…) and Blanche taught me how to play Dominoes and Scrabble.
But mostly I remember the day at our house when I moved from the Kitchen to the Dining Room.
Almost burst out singing “God has made a Man today!” from Fiddler on the Roof.
Pity it wouldn’t be written for another ten years or so, huh?