HOLIDAY MEMORIES

By Ron Dupuis

Thanksgiving will always have a special meaning in my heart.
Whether during good or difficult times, the Dupuis family has always managed to reflect on how happy we were to have each other.
In the fifties, my Moms large Irish family of twelve brothers and sisters would take turns hosting the holiday festivities. Traditional turkey with sage and onion stuffing, fresh hand mashed potatoes, squash, peas, and an abundance of vegetable side dishes that would satisfy the most discerning of diners, would be the standard fare at any of the Dupuis, Lovett, Gould, Birmingham, Cameron, or O’Day, households. After dinner, while the coffee and pies were being warmed up, someone almost always began to sing. It was usually Uncle John, who thought he was a tenor, but was instead, in all sincerity, a bad baritone. The songs started out as some Irish ditties such as “The Iceman”, continued about the “troubles” back in the “Old Sod”, and eventually became a clan collaboration of Christmas carols. After an emotional version of Silent Night by all, the coats were gathered and good-by’s were said among developing plans for Christmas when we would be reunited all over again.
The sixties and seventies held both low and high points for me and my family. The lowest being one particular Thanksgiving eating a cold plate of turkey inside a hooch on the outskirts of DaNang Viet Nam. Despite being separated from my immediate family, there was a company of battle tested Marines, my extended family at that particular time, that were determined not to allow anything or anyone interfere with our meager celebration.
Since the early eighties there has been nothing but happiness for the Dupuis family during the holiday season. It was when I courted and eventually married my beautiful and understanding wife Dorene (she reads everything I write and I need the brownie points). There have been Thanksgivings in Florida where a twenty pound turkey was barbecued on a backyard grill. A disaster by most standards since it looked great on the outside, however, was pink throughout. There was the Thanksgiving when we invited all of Dorene’s family to our new home and I forgot to remove the giblets package from the bird before cooking. There was the Thanksgiving at a sister in-laws home where unbeknown to everyone except my wife, Patches the cat had died sometime during the night. The entire day was spent preventing our four year old lovely daughter Casey (she reads everything I write and I need the brownie points) from patting the “sleeping” cat in the corner. Finally, there was the Thanksgiving when Mom and Dad closed the family restaurant, invited the entire clan, along with all the help and a few regular customers, to a catered traditional dinner with all the trimmings. Being the lone hard core Republican among a family of Irish Catholic Democrats, I was regulated to the role of water boy when the Kennedy-esque football game developed in the parking lot.

Thanksgiving, to me and my family is a period of both reflection and anticipation. We discuss what has made us stronger and healthier in past years. We don’t dwell on the mistakes, and there have been many, but instead on the events that have made our family into a lasting, loving unit that will continue to grow.
We look forward to the Christmas season and beyond, no matter what it may have in store. More that that, we look forward to being with each other and sharing a life that for the last twenty five years seems, to us at least, second to none.
Because of these memories and because of my families’ values; Thanksgiving will always have a special meaning in my heart.



Ron Dupuis is a New Hampshire resident, a former State Representative, and a freelance writer. His e-mail is drcdupuis@comcast.net. His web site may be viewed at www.imho-nh.blogspot.com