Cousins & Turkeys.

Disclaimer: This photo was not taken at Thanksgiving, but it's a forever favorite.  

Relocation to a new mitten-shaped state blessed our close Chicago-Italian family with the challenge to learn how to do holidays a little bit differently. 1993 began with an attendance of 13 individuals. A few years passed, we grew to 16 chairs with the addition of two beautiful Lupori ladies and the little man who would get to pass on the Lupori name. The kids table was officially equal in size to the adult table.

I can remember working with Brian and Lynn to get all our chores done - and nothing about it felt like a chore. We were dusting baseboards, cleaning toilets, and carefully organizing our Michael Jordan memorabilia and Disney statues so that our guest would have the best view during their stay. Lynn and I grew up with queen beds for the sole purpose of the week we got to host our favorite people.

Mom conversations on the phone with Nonni grew longer as the time got closer, and her excitement to spend time with her brother and sister's family was evident in the smile on her face.

I kept a list of all the things I wanted to do with my cousins in my nightstand, Brian and I checked the movie listings and Lynn planned her babysitting night. We would run home from the bus on the day Nonni and Nonno arrived - we could not wait to get hugs from two people we saw just a month before (for Mom's birthday). We'd hang up our backpacks and grab one of the treats Nonni brought and sit down to hear about the latest events on Oak Hill. It was right about this time that Nonno joked that the turkey was forgotten or that the police pulled him over for not buckling it up for the trip.  

The following days were filled with toasting and cubing the bread for stuffing, phone calls between Mom, Aunt Tina, and Uncle Vince. Last minute questions were flying as the Jones' and Lupori's packed to head north - It was the season of sippee cups and diaper wipes for Z, American Girl dolls and princess pajamas for Paige and Maddie, and Pixar movies and warheads for Kimberly and Kev. Without fail, there was always a cousin who was sick, lake effect snow, or traffic that killed with pace of getting the best people to Bellwether.

Those nights, I found myself sleeping by the window in the master bedroom just so I could see those headlights signifying my people had arrived.

It's not the food, the lighting, the outfits, or the decorations I remember.

It's the way Nonno pinched Nonni's booty when he thought no one was looking, the basement time I spent with my siblings and cousins, the encouragement I got from my Aunts and Uncles, and the joy I saw in my Mom and Dad's face when they had guest around Great Nonni's table.

I love that we crammed 16 people into a home, that we shared couch cushions and personal space for a few days a year. I love that we watched Nonno and Nonni love each other generously through their last decades of anniversaries.

This week always brings me to my knees in gratitude for the sacrifices you made to get your families to ours.

All my love,
Lauren