Leftover Memories

My mother loved turkey sandwiches. She would slice some Italian bread very thin, and sometimes toast it. Then she would carve the turkey white meat and arrange it neatly on the bread. I cannot remember if she used butter or mayo as a spread, or maybe nothing. I do remember she lightly salt and peppered the turkey. No tomato, no lettuce. Just a plain old turkey sandwich, and she was happy.

Now, to get to the turkey sandwich was a traumatic experience. G.T., where my Dad worked, gave out turkeys to employees. This was an unappreciated gesture. The huge turkey size caused angst at our house. The roasting pan was not big enough, and it left no room to cook anything else in the oven. Worst of all, my mother would have to get up very early to prep the bird for the oven. My mother did not like getting up really, really early to cook. No Norman Rockwell picture at this point. If you heard any clanging in the kitchen, you put your head under the covers and willed yourself back to sleep. If she ever cursed in her life, it was on Thanksgiving mornings.

Eventually, the turkey would get in the oven and sizzle away for hours. Kids piled in the family room to watch the Macy's Day parade. We would welcome Santa Claus and the opening of the holiday season. Remember when this parade truly was the signal, not 4th of July fireworks fading into the distance? In the meantime, the meal was assembled and served on the dining room table. My father struggled and cursed the table leaf. We came up with enough plates and silverware to match the body count, and extra chairs were dragged from the basement. Extended family was seated at the table, and we were, once again, grateful for our feast.

The meal was all over so quickly. We ate until we were stuffed, and then headed outside for a walk or to rake the never- ending fall leaves. My mother cleaned up the kitchen, and then sat down to enjoy football on TV. Yep, she was the fan. The rest of the day was a bit of a free-for-all. Folks came and went, and we nibbled on leftovers. Then, Thanksgiving evening, I could count on my mother to fix herself her turkey sandwich and savor every bite.