I am posting a picture of my childhood home in Melrose, Massachusetts, the scene of so many of our Thanksgiving gatherings. It was a lot of work, but my mother loved to host these holiday dinners. And there were certain things you could count on: Aunts and great aunts (who far outnumbered the uncles in our family); a children’s tables; black olives which we were allowed to put on our fingers (quite out of character in a family where playing with food was frowned upon); a turkey centerpiece made out of a pineapple; stuffed celery; my mother’s pretty holiday aprons; butternut squash; leniency from my father who allowed us to snitch turkey in the kitchen while he was carving; plain, but really good stuffing and gravy; too many pies; jello salad; half-dipped mints; “the good china” and the Waterford crystal; a box of chocolates from Russo’s and lessons from my mother about how to identify the caramels; and jigsaw puzzle. This my first Thanksgiving without my mother, but how lucky I was to have had her for sixty of them.
Two Clifton Park Court, 1968
