No, Thanks -giving (part 2)

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I was so exhausted from the last two days' events I crashed early. Apparently, there were some great football games on so John was up at 11 pm when the first phone call came. It was my dad. My 21 year old cousin, James, was in a horrible car accident.

My first question, obviously, "Is he alive?" My dad could only answer with an "I don't know, we're driving to Zephyrhills Hospital right now." Now my heart starts racing and a million questions make their way to the functioning parts of my brain.

About an hour later, I call my dad back and here's what my exhausted brain hears: "Nell, he's pretty mangled. I'm sitting with him now because Linda doesn't want him to be left alone."

Me: "Oh, ok. Well, call me if you need to."

By now I'm finally in touch with my sister, who is hysterical. "If anything happens to him, I will really collapse. He's my boy, Nellie." My sister and James are close in age and have really hung out through their teenage years. Stacie has just experienced way too many deaths in her short lifetime, including the suicide of her childhood friend Nicole just a month ago.

I do my best to calm her down and tell her to just text me with an update. At this point, I think she's on her way to the hospital to visit. At 1am the house and cell phones start ringing. I told her to text, but she's calling. Weird. I drift back off to sleep.

I call my mom as soon as my eyes open. She's delirious and I can't understand her. I call my dad's cell and reach him. "No, Nell, he's not ok. He's dead. Babe, I thought I was clear last night."

"Uh, no, Dad. You weren't." I'm crying now. Turner is asking what's wrong. How do I explain my tears to him? Oh, my God. The day got worse and spilled in the next...

My family has camped during the week/end of Thanksgiving at the Hillsborough River State Park for 50 years. Immediate and extended family sleep in tents and campers all parked in a row. The kids and adults play all day and I know everyone looked forward to it throughout the year. It was our time to touch base with second and third cousins, great aunts and that lady who is related to your dad's uncle and twice removed (Katie Ogden may respond with an actual answer!). Thanksgiving day we'd scurry around and cook on the fire and tiny electric stoves. Football was broadcast on teeny tiny TVs with rabbit ears and everyone just enjoyed a slower week. The turkeys were usually cooked in someone's home -Mammer (my grandmother) would stay home to make hers and then come out to the park. There were odd pies, sweetpotatoe casseroles, dips, and sauces galore. Any and all Southerners' favorite foods were piled on mis-matched tables in the pavillion by the Hillsborough River. The staff at the park would even ask if so-and-so was coming because they've not yet reserved a spot.

The first time I ever missed a Thanksgiving at the park was college. I was devistated. The first time my family missed the park was when they travelled to Charleston, SC for my wedding. After that, John and I never got to go back. We toyed with the idea this year, but decided a quite weekend at home was needed. I regret the decision and probably will for ever. I know you can't change the past but to see James' smiling face or get one of his signature hugs would have lasted me a lifetime.

no, Thanks -giving (part 1)

It's taken me a few days to muster up the courage to write this, as well as get caught up with all the other things I'm supposed to be doing...

The kids had been passing around a mystery fever. Wednesday, Eli's got up to 104 so just to be safe I took him to the Naval Air Station clinic (like a mini ER/urgent care). Of course, the fever broke at the clinic and then he was cranky and covered in a head to toe rash. I decided to be safe and wait to see a doc even though I knew it was nothing since he was acting fine, otherwise. We made it back home and I tried to get him to sleep. Something at the clinic spooked him. Maybe it was the bitchy nurse that wanted to be home baking pies or the kid with whooping cough. The poor guy just couldn't sleep. After two hours of consoling, rocking, holding and exhaustion we finally got him down.

My Bon Appetite Thanksgiving wasn't even prepped for. I threw in the towel and went to bed.

Thursday I started cooking/baking/sauce making immediately. I was really on a roll until my beautiful double Kitchen Aid ovens stopped working and LOCKED MY DAMN PIES IN THE OVENS. Seriously? The day was getting better. Eli was still cranky from his missed sleep so I put him on my back and dealt with hair pulling. We had invited a single sailor over for dinner so I could not jump ship. I made John call him and push dinner back a few hours. My ovens were still locked and, unlike the Turkey Hotline, there is no one working at Kitchen Aid on Thanksgiving!

I haven't even prepped the turkey when I realized it was all just coming apart at the seams. Since I'm cookin' a bun in my own oven the smells were all over-powering and I wanted nothing more than a cup of tea and to go back to bed!

Hours and hours later it all worked out. We had a wonderful meal for 16 (?!?!) and all on time. Well, the second time.

Later that evening, John cleaned the house. The dishes were done and I was in a non-alcoholic coma. I thought that was the end of the worst Thanksgiving in the history of this Baggett family.

Boy, was I wrong...