We’re leaning into the time of year for feasting, and we all have our own feast traditions. But what of traditions for after the feast?
When our friend Len was growing up and celebrating with his grandparents in northern New Jersey, what happened after dinner was that everyone, from oldest to youngest, would put on jackets and go for a long walk along the railroad tracks through a former mining community. The zinc had played out long before; the people had moved away. Various buildings still stood, but some had been built over mining shafts to keep people out. Pat says the town is now a thriving arts community but, when Len was a child, the walk was a family adventure.
When she was growing up, Pat says, the after-dinner activity was simpler. “We were happy to be just quiet after being fed, happy to be blessed in so many ways.” When she and Len lived in New Hampshire with the family they created, Len’s after-feast regimen was to disappear. A theoretical physicist, he taught graduate courses and an undergraduate astronomy course with 400 students. After feasts, he would go downstairs and sit cross-legged on the floor, grading exams and stacking them in piles by performance, looking for trends.
My husband’s mother believed in the family value of doing dishes. Although she managed a household of seven and their house came with a dishwasher, she had it removed when they moved in. She was choir director and organist of their church, and the whole family had lovely voices. The daughters’ voices, in particular, blended perfectly. Singing tended to accompany the doing of dishes. My husband says that apres-feast, everyone got to work on the dishes.
His sister Peg says the after-dinner protocol involved lying around on the floor watching football on television or maybe playing outside. On further reflection, she says that the kids did the cleanup and got the table looking pretty again, and then it was time for delicious pies.* We talked a lot at the table, all through dinner and pies.” “Who did the dishes?” I ask. “Oh, the kids normally did the dishes. When Dad helped, there would be water everywhere. He’d get his hands in the dishwater and everything was just bigger.” Only after the order was restored was there any lolling about, but it was all good. You can hear the smile in her voice as she speaks of that time.
When my sisters and I were kids and family came for a feast, we knew what to do after dinner. We cleared the table, then we ran to plug in the tea kettle and sort through the teacup cupboard for our favorite cups. We made tea in the big pewter pot, then delivered cups and teapot to the table, and it was time for stories. They went on long after the tea grew cold. We drank it anyway, and lingered in the family’s warmth and love.
Now that our parents are no more, the nature of feasts at our house has changed. I invite not just family in the area but neighbors, friends, and students from distant parts of the planet. Camaraderie grows as we enjoy the meal together, finishing up with coffee and tea. Guests choose their own cups if they wish, and we still use the pewter teapot. And then the magic happens.
The students tell stories of the first time they tasted mashed potatoes or American pie. The foods that would feature in a feast back home. What weddings are like in their cultures. There are always lots of questions from the other international students and from the rest of us as well. Especially when one of the students from India mentioned that when he completed his doctorate, he would be returning home to get married. In an arranged marriage.
The questions poured in then, and the student answered them all happily. He was delighted with his fiancée. She had not been the first young woman his parents had suggested, or the second or the third. His parents had asked him what sort of woman he’d like to meet. He indicated the dancer performing on the TV screen and said, “I’d like to meet her.” His parents arranged for that to happen, and the young people hit it off.
Such interesting stories. Such inclusion and warmth. What happens after the feast can be delightful.
*My husband’s mother was, in my completely unbiased estimation, the pie goddess of the world. I never knew what the fuss was about with respect to pies till I tasted one of hers. Then I understood.
29 October 2021
Having family, friends, neighbors, and your students from university made Thanksgiving one of my, still, favorite celebrations. Plus the wonderful foods.