Thanksgiving. A day of chasing leaves, all-day football, tantalizing aromas, and dinner for 20. It’s a holiday where tradition and chaos collide in the best way possible.
I remember one particular Thanksgiving vividly. My friend, the oldest of five siblings, rarely had a moment to herself. Her family dynamic was a solar system of constant motion, her parents and younger siblings orbiting around her. But on that Thanksgiving, with aunts, uncles, and cousins flooding the kitchen, she found a rare pocket of freedom. And I, the youngest of four, was ready to seize the moment with her.
We knew the rules. Stay within earshot of her mother, and this brief reprieve could vanish in an instant. So, we ventured down the street, far enough to ensure our escape couldn’t be undone.
Outside, the wind was alive, sending leaves swirling in dazzling hues of gold, crimson, burgundy, and orange. They danced around us in a colorful tornado, like an enchanted portal to Oz. We squealed with laughter, twirling in the whirlwind, savoring a perfect freeze-frame moment in time.
Back inside, my cheeks stung from the cold, but the warmth of Thanksgiving enveloped me. The air was thick with the smell of roasting turkey, buttery rolls, and spiced pies—a symphony of scents that almost managed to mask the lingering cigar smoke from my dad and his friends, glued to the TV. Football, of course.
Turns out, football and Thanksgiving go hand in hand, a tradition dating back to 1876. Who knew? For me, it was less about history and more about the rhythm of the day. Football played in the background as my mom commandeered the kitchen, calling for reinforcements to prepare a feast for 20. With only six seats at the table, we’d eat in shifts—a chaotic ballet of passing platters and refilling plates.
Those memories are etched in my mind, tied irrevocably to the scents of the season. As the days grow shorter and the holidays blend together, I find myself chasing those memories—through the crisp smell of autumn leaves, the spice of cider, or the comforting aroma of Thanksgiving dinner.
In my mind, I’m back with my friend Kimmy, twirling in the leaves, my cheeks flushed from the cold. I see my mom standing in front of the TV, trying to rally help for the kitchen, while my dad puffs his cigar. And there’s the table—laden with turkey, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie, ready to welcome everyone, even if not all at once.
That Thanksgiving stands out as the most significant of my childhood. I never could have imagined how deeply scents would anchor those moments in my memory, bringing them back so vividly, even years later.
Now, as I prepare my own kitchen for the big day, I smile. The TV drones with the familiar hum of football. The kids run outside to chase leaves. The smells of the season fill my home, bringing with them the warmth of old traditions and the promise of new memories.
Here’s to the good scents in life and the moments they conjure. Happy Thanksgiving and all the days that follow.
Jean Greco for Belle Aroma® Brand