Wished You Were Closer: Thanksgiving

Growing up I always celebrated Thanksgiving in Ohio. We usually left early Thursday morning and drove the packed car for approximately seven hours until we arrived at grandma and grandpa's doorstep.

Along the way, we had our favorite stops to eat and go to the bathroom. One of my favorites was "The Bald Eagle," which was a real, old school truck stop with juke boxes at the tables, greasy food, and a gift shop with trucker necessities. Later, they changed the name to "The Eagles Nest" and added amenities such as telephones at the tables, showers, laundry facilities and a little cinema. At my last visit, I bought an "I love trucking" t-shirt.

Unfortunately, Mom grew tired of the Eagles' Nest eventually and we started going to the "Dutch Pantry." This is a chain of quasi-fast food restaurants in Pennsylvania. Usually there are a lot of old people in there and the food isn't too bad. The best part is the golf tee games they put on the table to occupy you while you wait. Most highway places don't miss an opportunity to sell you something, so there was a little gift shop there, too. I looked forward to purchasing "fire balls," which are spicy jaw breakers. We also used to buy some chocolate cow pies for my friends. Very quaint.

The drive was only the beginning of the magical journey to Canfield. Upon arrival, there were usually toys or games for us to play with. I would run around to find Taffy, their Yorkshire Terrier. I was amazed at how she peed on newspaper. Later, Grandma would serve a big dinner with turkey and stuffing and all the rest. We would get to eat on the good china in the dining room. Grandpa would do his famous version of grace and then we would dig in. After eating the delicious pumpkin pie we felt pleasantly stuffed and sleepy.

Black Friday was always spent at an Ohio mall. After complaining about parking and fighting for a spot, we'd shop for clothes or whatever and grab lunch somewhere -- probably Ashley's or Perkins. At night, we'd play "Heart and Soul" on the piano and watch television. When Amy was little, she would disappear into the living room, sit on the piano bench and pound out her own little songs. Everyone would comment on her skills and cheer her on. It was cute.