Thanksgiving

The fifteen-minute drive was filled with the sight of hundreds of bare trees. Almost all of the leaves have finished their journey of life and now scatter themselves amongst the ground. The image reminds me of a desolate battlefield, full of fallen soldiers and I am immediately thankful that every member of my family is here at home, and able to celebrate the holiday with one another. I immediately realize when we have reached the neighborhood where my aunt and uncle reside because all of the tiny houses resemble one another. Upon entering the house I am immediately bombarded with hugs and kisses. The smell of turkey is the first to enter into my nostrils. Soon after stuffing, mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables follow. The sound of Lions game echoing in the background distracts me from the prayer that is being said aloud. After grace is said a mad dash to the kitchen counter begins. My plate resembles Mount Everest after I pile small samples of everything onto it. The taste is ten times better than usual (Whether it is actually better or just tastes better after weeks of cafeteria ‘food’ I may never know). After consuming two heaping plates of food and two pieces of pie I feel as if I may explode at any minute. The constant sounds of conversation and laughter that fill the room remind me that the saying is true: there’s no place like home.