In November of 2023, I lost my aunt very suddenly, a week before Thanksgiving. For the first time in my life, my family would not be participating in our usual Thanksgiving traditions.
I would not get up early to go with my mom and sister to get a peppermint mocha from Starbucks or drive to the community fields to watch my dad play flag football – what we call Turkey Bowl – with friends and family. We would not go to our family friend’s house for a delicious Thanksgiving feast nor would we all sit in the living room playing games while we laughed until our stuffed stomachs hurt. Instead, I would be spending Thanksgiving in Boston, grieving.Â
I do not handle change well; even ordering something new from my favorite restaurants is difficult. But now, a holiday I look forward to is very different. Of course, I love seeing my family, but these circumstances were not ideal. Nonetheless, we held the funeral two days before Thanksgiving and spent the entire next day trying to make everything seem normal. We sat around the dining room table looking through old family photos, laughing at stories of my dad as a little kid terrorizing the streets of Boston. But there was still a heaviness in the air, almost as if we all felt guilty for joy, even though, to other families, this was a week of celebration.Â
On Thanksgiving, I went to my cousin’s house to help with the food preparations. But when I arrived, I wasn’t met with the normal turkey and stuffing; there was a full Italian feast. I’ve always been very connected to my Italian heritage. Still, it never occurred to me that Italians were not the ones on the Mayflower, so Thanksgiving is not a typical Italian holiday.
I won’t lie; I was grieving the loss of my Thanksgiving stuffing at that moment. However, as my parents made their way over with my Nonnie, my mourning of traditional Thanksgiving food subsided as we began to dig into the Italian feast. As we started our meal with antipasto and stuffed mushrooms, I no longer missed my green bean casserole and mashed potatoes. Instead of turkey, there were several rounds of pasta. My mom made her famous apple and pumpkin pies for dessert, but we also had cannolis from Boston’s delicious Mike’s Pastry. It was also during dessert that we realized my late aunt had bought a pie for Thanksgiving that was still sitting in the freezer, and then suddenly, the real reason we were there hit us.Â
At first, the thought of not participating in our tradition was scary and a little disappointing. As a fresh 20-year-old, I feel like I should be more comfortable with change. After all, I am an adult. But, this year, we are spending our second Thanksgiving in Boston, and I am okay with that. As much as I loved the tradition I grew up in, I accepted that traditions change. As I grew older, I began to build new traditions with my friends and family. I am grateful to be surrounded by love and delicious food. After all, isn’t this how traditions are built?
If you are experiencing change during the holidays, know you are not alone. It can be overwhelming, and you can feel very isolated in your emotions. Change is normal, despite how terrifying it can be. Whether you’re celebrating with someone new or going to an entirely different place, the holidays are meant to be enjoyed, so allow yourself to enjoy it.