Gobbles and Giggles

OCCUPY THANKSGIVING Squatters

One Thanksgiving morning, we awoke to a kitchen full of squatters.  Every bit of counter space was filled with large, brightly colored, honeycomb tissue paper turkeys sporting protest signs.  Even our traditional table decoration turkeys had migrated to join the protesters.  OCCUPY THANKSGIVING read their picket signs.  All over the country, protesters were squatting on public property with OCCUPY WALL STREET signs and now they had come to our house. 

Protesters

"Counter" Protesters

Turkeys,of course, have the right to protest on Thanksgiving, as they do not accept that their birthright is to feed the nation, but only Jory would bring them home.  Of course, there were “counter” protesters, as well.  Cows and pigs surrounded the turkeys in signs that read EAT MORE TURKEY and THE COWS ARE RIGHT!  EAT MORE TURKEY.  We took a poll, in which Jory was most vocal, but nobody wanted to switch to tofu turkey, so the protesters were overruled for the upcoming holidays.

At the beginning, we all would gather at Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris’ house.  Grandma Bertha, Grandpa Sergio, and Aunt Miriam and Aunt Molly also joined us.  Thanksgiving was still a rather new holiday for them, having recently immigrated with Sam to Los Angeles from Mexico City.  Every year there were also other relatives and invited friends, so the table was expanded to accommodate everyone.

Thanksgiving lunch for the needy.

Thanksgiving morning, before we came to Grandma Edna’s house, we had things to prepare for our feast and we had an important obligation.  The boys and I went down to a small local church and served Thanksgiving dinner to the needy.  Each boy brought a tray of my freshly baked pumpkin bread, pies, or cookies to be shared.  The church parking lot was filled with tables and chairs.  Along the outside wall was a buffet table that stretched the entire length of the building.  Delicious homemade food filled every space on top of the crisp white table clothes.  There was turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, marshmallow yams, green beans, corn, black beans, rice, tortillas, biscuits, corn bread, pumpkin bread, pies, cakes, and cookies.  The line of hungry families and homeless people meandered down the street and around the corner.  Volunteers served the food as hungry individuals chose what they wanted.  At the end of the buffet table, the boys carried the filled plates to a dining table and helped the people get seated and comfortable.  We stayed to help until the last person had their fill.  It was important to me that the boys realize that there are many who are less fortunate than ourselves and it was their duty to treat them as guests and help out with whatever was needed.  It made Thanksgiving even sweeter, having done a mitzvah, or good deed, for others who could not repay that kindness.

Jory and Grandpa Morris in fun wigs.

Feeling pleased to be able to help the hungry, we then headed to Grandma Edna's house.  From the minute we entered the door, we could hear one of Grandpa Morris’ upbeat records playing on his turntable in the living room stereo cabinet.  As the spirit and the music moved us, one by one, we would become a family flash mob that gathered on the stone tiled walkway between the living room and the dining room.  The rhythms were contagious and feet began to dance on the hard surface.  We were a regular tap dance troupe, showing off our steps and moves.  Occasionally, someone would join us in one of Grandma Edna’s fun wigs and, just like in the old movies, we would laugh and dance on with tap dance steps that reverberated off the walls.

Salvador Dali jigsaw puzzle

Jory, Thalia, and Shan post scavenger hunt.

It seemed forever that we waited for the meal to begin, so distractions were available to keep our minds off of growing appetites.  A card table in the living room was a favorite spot to search for straight edges or red pieces in the large colorful jigsaw puzzles that challenged us every year.  The first comers occupied the four chairs, but the table corners offered room for bystanders who had aerial vision and could reach over the table to secure that obscure piece of cloud or sunshine.  Every year the puzzles seemed to become more interesting and complicated.  Once, when the boys were very young, we were all surprised to find that a playboy centerfold puzzle had made its way onto the card table.  Later, placing the final piece in the puzzle became a coveted honor.  Suspiciously, Jory began finding that last piece under the table, but his brothers swore that it was always hidden in his pocket.  The next year it happened again.  From that time on, Darren and Shan each sequestered a “last” piece, making sure that brother Jory couldn't finish the puzzle.   As they got older, the nature of the games expanded as the boys created their own activities to pass the time until dinner.  One year, Shan and Thalia organized a scavenger hunt for Jory’s prized railroad conductor’s hat that he claimed had been kidnapped.  Afterwards, the three of them showed up to the table wearing their various found treasures.  The brothers were never at a loss for silliness and laughter.

Jory and Shan at the oven door with a turkey hat.

Meanwhile, the ovens were bursting with the savory aromas of roast turkey with stuffing, candied yams, and pumpkin and corn breads.  We were salivating as our tummies gurgled.  The dessert table was already set with pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies; and as much whipped cream as one could pile on.  Gratefully, dinner is usually early on Thanksgiving and we were all hungry and ready.

Prum Family traditional Thanksgiving Table

We longingly checked out the Thanksgiving table, where presiding at the center is always a balding straw turkey whose remaining tail feathers are now short and scraggly.  They were never brilliantly colored, but in our memories, they represent the radiant past 60+ years of beautiful family gatherings around the Thanksgiving table.  Not alone, this raffia turkey is joined by equally old, mini-sculptured candles shaped like Pilgrims and Native Americans and a few colorful pumpkin and gourd candles that have remained unlit throughout the years.  They stand surrounded by vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves that fall from the trees outside to bring color to our table.  Adding sparkle to the table is the flock of brightly colored, foil wrapped See’s chocolate turkeys, each carefully placed before every person’s place setting.  (When this custom began, the See's chocolate turkeys cost 35¢ each.  Now they are $5.50 apiece.) 

Thanksgiving buffet table

Jory serves himself turkey while Thalia waits.

When dinner was announced, everyone rushed to the buffet table to fill their plates with our sumptuous dinner.  The turkey had already been carved, so choosing between the dark and white meat was easy.  Steam rising from the bread stuffing curled into our nostrils, making our mouths water in anticipation.  The dish of candied yams bathed in their sweet orange sauce was adjacent to the plate of round, cranberry sauce slices.  Next to Grandpa Morris’ required green salad was a bowl of bright green string beans.  A bowl of spiced peach halves and one of black olives added condiments to the meal.  Of course, the baskets of pumpkin and corn bread were passed around after everyone was seated at the dining table.

After the meal and before dessert, we had two very important traditions to fulfill.  First, we went around the table so that everyone could share those things that they were thankful for.   Thoughts and words were percolating within each of us throughout this special day.  Now they were validated as each of us said them aloud in the presence of those that we loved most.        

Turkey Farm

Our second tradition was the Turkey Gobble, which had its origin when I was about 9 years old.  Grandpa Morris would take us to the turkey farm at Mt. San Antonio College.  We could hardly wait to jump out of the car and sprint to the fence.  All the turkeys in the yard came to greet us.  Grandpa Morris would throw his hands up like conducting an orchestra and command, “All together now!”  At Grandpa Morris’ prompting, the turkeys would join in a rambunctious cacophony of gobbles.  We loved it and urged encore after encore.  All the way home, we would practice gobbling, but no one could beat Grandpa Morris.  To this day, we still honor these traditions.  New members to our family shyly turn red as they undergo this sacred initiation into the Prum family custom.  Laughter abounds following each gobbling solo.  Finally, the grand finale occurs when Sam raises his hands to conduct the ensemble and says, “All together now,” and everyone gobbles in unison.  When the giggles subside, the pies are served.

Pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies.

We have always had two or three kinds of pie at Thanksgiving:  pumpkin, pecan, and apple.  Not everyone was a fan of pumpkin pie, and Jory was allergic to the milk based pies, so I made apple pie for him and anyone else who wanted some.  Whipped cream made the pies really special.  Sometimes, the boys, each armed with a can of whipped cream, faced off in the kitchen and came out covered in white deliciousness.  Jory was not allergic to making a mess with whipped cream and we always had a generous supply on hand.

Prum family Thanksgiving table decorations.

In time, the straw turkey along with the assortment of table decorations migrated to our house.  Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris had moved from Whittier to Leisure World.  Grandma Edna declared a hiatus, and their kitchen went on vacation.  At first, they contributed the roasted turkey, but eventually they had done their duty and became guests.  Everything else remained almost the same.  We all gathered together to feast on our favorites, express our thanks, gobble, giggle, and chomp on those chocolate turkeys.

Jory singing "Bertha from Bolinas" after dinner.

As each of the boys became adults and began to explore their futures, they moved in different directions and into distant locales.  It was not always possible for all three to be with us for Thanksgiving.  Darren moved to Nevada, then Florida; Jory was drawn to Fairfax and Norway; and Shanon migrated to Australia, then San Diego.  They always called or Skyped sometime during the day if they were not able to make the trip home.  When Jory was with us, there was always an after dinner serenade of his favorite songs.  Most were satirical and funny and some, like “Bertha from Bolinas,” were his own compositions.  He was pretty young when Grandma Bertha passed away, but he memorialized her name in his music. 

Last year was the first year that we were all together for Thanksgiving without Jory.  Darren hosted the event.  It wasn't easy, but we made it through together.  It was Eliza’s first Thanksgiving, as she was born to Shan and Thalia 10 days before Jory passed away.  Having a baby in the family helped camouflage the underlying sadness that we all felt.

Thanksgiving 2016 at Darren and Andra's house.

As a surprise for me, Jory's brothers scheduled a photographer to take family portraits.  We scouted locales near Darren’s home to find trees with red, gold, and orange leaves.  The spot we chose was near a picturesque lake house with rocking chairs on the wooden porch.  Fortunately, the inhabitants were away celebrating Thanksgiving with relatives, so we made ourselves at home for a fun picture shoot that redefined our family and is helping us all move forward with our current reality.

The Redefined Prum Family on Thanksgiving 2016

Luckily for us, no one was home when we used the porch for this fun photo.  Jory would have loved this.

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum    January 29, 2009
I maintain that I was not allergic. My parents claim I was calmer when I was "allergic", but they didn't know I was having chocolate milk at school.  

Abe

Thank you for helping me get to know so many things about Jory that I did not know. I await eagerly every new chapter of your blog that you write so beautifully and with so much love.

Rita

Your stories are so poignant and interesting-the addition of photos is ingenius.  Your extended family is an amazing achievement. Few are so lucky.

Erik

Love it and KEEP ME ON THE LIST. Hehehehehe

©  2017  Leslye J.  Prum  All rights reserved.