Just Another Thursday

Well, it may be Thanksgiving where you are, but over here, it's just another day.
Keith and I walked down to Old Street and beyond to do a few errands earlier today. One stop was the grocery store. No mad dashes for the dinner rolls. No runs on the pies. No empty case where frozen turkeys rested just days ago.
Just a normal shopping day.
Our students - except one - embraced their travel bugs and went away for the break. We're coming home in two weeks, so they're taking one last chance to travel. They're spread from Amsterdam to Spain and points in between.
I didn't really feel like cooking a traditional spread. Back home, my sister Cara is the Queen of Thanksgiving - her turkey and dressing can't be beat. I contribute very little to the annual feast - a Waldorf salad here, a basket of rolls there. So we decided to take Wingate up on their offer to treat us to Thanksgiving dinner at a local hotel.
Our reservation was for 6 pm, which seemed wrong to us. I always think of Thanksgiving as an afternoon thing - around our house, the ritual is eat about 2 p.m., fall asleep in front of the TV around 4 p.m. and gather in kitchen about 7 p.m. for a turkey sandwich and a piece of pie.
We set out for our dinner journey around 5 p.m. One bus, three subways and 10 blocks later, we walked into the hotel. They had a nice table set up for the three of us.
We had several slice of nice, juicy turkey, a strange black sage-less dressing (I didn't eat it, so I'm going on Keith's description), roast pumpkin, corn, roasted potatoes and sweet potato mash. Instead of cranberry sauce, we had a cranberry jelly - not jellied cranberries. There is a difference.
For dessert, we had a choice of apple or pumpkin pie. Ever the traditionalist, I chose pumpkin.
I learned something today. We had the meal with all the trimmings, but it didn't feel like Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is a day to take it slow. It felt funny to see people scurrying around with briefcases.
TV was the same old chat shows and soaps. No NFL and Macy's Parade.
I missed walking into my sister's kitchen, smelling that intoxicating mix of roasting turkey, simmering green beans, dressing with celery, onion and sage and the heady, spicy aroma of pumpkin pie.
I missed talking over holidays past, planning Christmas shopping and weighing the merits of this year's bird over last year's. (This year's is always better.)
Food is the glue that binds the holiday, but the laughter and love of family is what makes the day special.
We had our turkey dinner, but we missed Thanksgiving.
On the other hand, we're the luckiest people in the world to have had these weeks in London. Every day we're thankful and grateful for this experience.
So this year, we learned that giving thanks is an everyday ritual and Thanksgiving is more than a meal.