Now that we’re all recovered from Halloween and Mariah Carey has officially defrosted, I know everyone is excited to get into the holiday spirit. All of our favorite stores have released their seasonal decorations, and our beloved restaurants and cafés are coming out with their holiday menus. If you haven’t already, you’re probably ready to break out your winter playlists.
It even feels like winter in most places. A few weeks ago, the temperature practically dropped from 70 degrees to 30 in a matter of days. We’ve officially broken out our winter coats, and our bodies are ready to go into full hibernation mode. We’re making our gift lists and thinking about what to buy for our parents… but wait.
Shouldn’t we slow down? Aren’t we forgetting something?
That would be Thanksgiving: the forgotten holiday. This is probably an unpopular opinion, but Thanksgiving has been one of my favorite holidays ever since I was very young. And honestly, I think it deserves more appreciation than it gets.
As a child, living in New Jersey and having all of my family in Virginia meant that I only saw my aunt, uncle, cousins, and grandparents a handful of times every year. Thanksgiving was one of those times. We would drive down to Virginia and stay for a few days. That time of year was always so special because, while most people I knew had the experience of living close to their families and seeing them regularly, I did not. The feeling of togetherness during the holiday was incomparable to anything else. Thanksgiving felt like home, even if my real home was somewhere else.
Coupled with that, there are the obvious Thanksgiving clichés that every family experiences to some degree: older relatives teasingly asking about your love life, that one politically incorrect family member, and, of course, the kids’ table. People love to joke about how annoying those moments are, but I’ve always found them kind of fun and part of the Thanksgiving culture.
The thing is, every family has their own set of Thanksgiving traditions that happen year after year and make the day uniquely theirs. For instance, my mom and uncle have had this running debate since before my brother was born about who makes the better sweet potato casserole. (My uncle dices the sweet potatoes in chunks and adds minimal marshmallows, while my mom mashes them and coats the top in marshmallows — take your pick.) Little traditions like that just emphasize the feeling of togetherness that the holiday is meant to create.
We all know Thanksgiving is deeply rooted in traditions of gratitude. It was historically made to bring communities together for the sharing of cultures and experiences. I think that plays a part in my love for the holiday, too. Yes, I feel a true sense of community when I’m with my family for Thanksgiving, but knowing that the holiday was literally created for that purpose just makes it all the more special.
We often fly past Thanksgiving during the year that we fail to appreciate that there’s a culture to it. It has its own month, just like Halloween has October and December has Christmas. But for some reason, people see November as pre-Christmas. For me, November is all about those cozy fall colors, going on long walks, sipping something warm, and listening to autumn-vibed albums like Red (Taylor’s Version) or songs like “Sweater Weather.” It’s a pause holiday; a moment to step back and take it all in. We can be grateful and admire what’s around us before the over-the-top decorations flood the neighborhood.
In the neighborhood I grew up in, there were a bunch of November traditions that gave off Thanksgiving energy, like the Turkey Trot (shout out to my Turkey Trot families — I see you, I love you, and I am with you) and a fall festival that included a chili cook-off, cornhole, and crafts for kids. All of these things promoted that sense of community even more.
Then, of course, there’s the food. Thanksgiving food, to me, is as good as it gets. It’s unhealthy, sure, but it’s comfort food, which just further supports how comforting the holiday is meant to be. The food doesn’t just come from the heart; it tastes like it does.
As a college student now, Thanksgiving is like a breath of fresh air. I’m away from the stress of studying for finals, and I finally get to be with my family, just enjoying our time together. After surviving months of dining hall food and caffeine, sitting at a real dining room table with real food and real conversation feels too good to be true.
In a way, I think the lack of commercialization around Thanksgiving compared to Christmas and Halloween might be intentional. It’s a quiet holiday. It doesn’t need to be posted about, and we don’t need crazy decorations in our front yards. It’s just there, grounding us before the holiday craze hits.
So this year, before you go all in on Christmas tree decorating and holiday shopping, take a moment to give Thanksgiving its time to shine, even if that just means a small moment of gratitude for what you have. I know I’ll be missing the calm when the Christmas storm comes rolling in. Before we know it, the year will be over, and we might all be wishing for a pause.