On Thanksmas

I write this on the 21st anniversary of my Dad’s death.  Here’s to you, Pop. Glad Mom is there with you.  We miss you both.  We'll still set a place for you, but you are at a better banquet.

We had a tradition in our family for years that we all called, “Thanksmas.”  My Dad actually started the tradition when grandchildren were little. He thought that ‘every kid should wake up on Christmas morning in their own home’ and suggested that we all get together for our family time at Thanksgiving. There were four Jackson kids and we all got married and started families over the course of a decade or so, ending up with 8 grandkids. We also spread out to Texas, Louisiana, Tennessee and Georgia. We also had inlaws. Judi and I loved the tradition. Once Aaron was born, we didn’t really have it in us to travel at Christmas. You may or may not know, but pastors always have a Christmas Eve service that we do and that means that if we are going to wake up in a distant city with our families of origin, we have to drive through the night. 

So the Jackson family invented Thanksmas. Judi and I–and the inlaws and outlaws–agreed that we would spend Christmas with Judi’s Mom and Thanksgiving with the chaotic Jackson clan. So every Thanksgiving week, Judi and I would drive with Aaron and Sarah to Atlanta from Louisiana–usually on Tuesday or Wednesday–and spend the middle of the week with my Mom and Dad and my older sister Carol and her two boys, my younger sister Susan and her husband and her son and daughter, and my younger brother James, my sister-in-law Trish, and their two boys.  For Thanksmas.

Some fantastic traditions birthed from Thanksmas. We would all set up camp at either my parents’ house or my sister’s house.  The basement had pallets for all the older cousins (who now call themselves “the council of cousins” and make most of the decisions for the extended family). Wednesday was for finalizing shopping for the Thanksgiving feast and buying last minute Thanksmas gifts. Friday was for the serious shopping, back when Black Friday didn’t last for most of the fall. Until he died in 2000, my father was the King of Thanksmas, pretty much second-guessing every decision anybody else made, but rarely making any decisions without being prompted. I understand that a lot better now. 

On Thursday morning–Thanksgiving Day–several of us got up really early to go to the Chamblee Marta station to run the Atlanta Half Marathon.  As many as 7 of us ran it one year and the rest of the family took up posts along to route to cheer us on. We liked that tradition. When you burn that many calories in the morning, you can eat whatever you want to for the rest of the day. We got home from the run sometime late morning and started preparations for Thanksgiving dinner.  Everybody had favorites, and everybody had some contribution. Some years we smoked the turkey. One time we fried the turkey. Mostly it was cooked in the oven so we could argue about which dressing was better–the stuffing that was inside the turkey when it was cooked or the stuffing that got cooked separately.

Dinner was sometime around 2 in the afternoon and after lunch we would either nap or play football.  Dad would referee.  I remember the year he died–the day before Thanksgiving–we still played football, but we set a bench up on the sideline to remember him.  After he died, we also set a place for him at our table, even though we knew he was eating at a much bigger table. 

Life was full. Turkey. Football. Nap. Rinse, repeat. As far as football loyalties, we represented by Georgia, Georgia Tech, FSU, LSU, Kentucky, and Auburn (and throw in Southern Mississippi and Georgia State, but they were irrelevant to the football discussion). Somehow we still got along.  After football, we would come inside to nap some more, watch whatever games were on and officially transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas. My sister would have the house totally decorated but not lit up. When we gathered to read “The Christmas Story” from Luke, we would flip the switches to light up tree(s) and garland and officially transition from “Thanks” to “mas.” We drew names sometime in early November, set a price limit and tried to buy something that would be appreciated. We outlawed gift cards when it got to be more common than it wasn’t. Everyone would give their gift to the family member whom they had drawn until all the gifts were given.

As I reflect on those Thanksmas holidays, I remember being profoundly grateful. Maybe it is because the holiday reminded me to be thankful. Maybe it is because we all made the effort to be family. Maybe I looked around the room and cherished all the relationships. Maybe I was aware enough to appreciate that we could buy a turkey, buy presents for each other, afford to travel across the southeast to be together. Maybe because I had a similar gratitude when the family news was good and when the news that particular year had challenges or sadness. Maybe because I wasn’t in charge of anything “churchy” I was especially able to take time to thank God that everyone in the room had access to the message of forgiveness and hope that is the person of Jesus Christ. 

So Happy Thanksmas.