I grew up with Thanksgiving as a tradition and greatly anticipated it every year in November. Granted, we never had the most gourmet of meals, as I would always expect Stovetop stuffing and gravy from a packet to be served, but it was still a meal that Ed and I loved and looked forward to.

After everyone left last night and we were cleaning up the apartment, I suddenly started to feel sad about the future and my own kids. They’re never going to know what it’s like to have a big family all together at a table here, enjoying Thanksgiving food every year on the same day. At most, they’ll see me scrambling to get all this food together and not really understand what the big deal is. My parents will never be involved. Ed isn’t here anymore. And it’s highly unlikely any of my cousins will be there. Chris doesn’t care about Thanksgiving since he didn’t grow up with it, and he doesn’t embrace it and could care less if we had a Thanksgiving meal to begin with.