It was an unprecedented dilemma for me: Book signings or frozen turkey huntings? Jetliners or beat-up canoes? My nationwide book tour had perfectly coincided with my family's annual Thanksgiving pilgrimage to Hilton Head Island, SC. And I was beside myself, to say the least.
I was eight when we started going, having spent the entirety of the 250-mile stretch between Atlanta and Sea Pines Resort sprawled out with my brothers in the back of a station wagon; nine when I found my first can of cranberry sauce nestled amidst the palmettos. Thanksgiving after Thanksgiving, my family returned to Hilton Head, weaving a legacy as seemingly rich and alive as that of the historical barrier island, itself.
With the addition of my newest niece, we'll hit sixteen this year. Eight adults, eight kids, three generations of loved ones -- each partaking in the same quirky holiday traditions that have become as integral a part of my family's landscape as the sand and the waves to the Carolina coast.
There's our annual reenactment of the landing at Plymouth Rock (using a piece of driftwood as a mock Mayflower) and our spirited Sprunt Pond Fishing showdown (using pumpkin bread as bait). There's our back porch arts-and-crafts table (where we make Native American accessories), and our annual Survivor Hilton Head Competition (featuring shell tosses and beach football). And of course, there's our infamous "Hunt for Our Supper" (turning up bags of dried stuffing, heaps of canned corn, and a 12-pound frozen turkey).
As it would be, my family does not come by this cornucopia of tradition haphazardly. My father, a psychologist and researcher at Emory University's Center for studying Myth and Ritual in American Life (MARIAL), has devoted much of his career to investigating the role and importance of family traditions. MARIAL's findings (which have been reported by the New York Times and Wall Street Journal among others) have been significant, indeed. Study after study suggesting that family rituals are far more than simple repetitive acts, but the very fabric of the human existence. That it's family traditions like the annual Thanksgiving dinner (which my crew celebrates on Friday rather than Thursday, well, just because) that provide children with the consistency and stability they need to thrive in a rocket-paced, anxiety-ridden, unpredictable 21st-century world.
All this is the reason that my unprecedented Thanksgiving dilemma was never really a dilemma at all. For strung between the plastic beads of our mismatched Native American accessories; built into the messy sandcastles of our silly Survivor Games; stuffed inside the frozen turkey hidden among the palmetto trees, are the makings of my family's greatest memories; the links between our past, present, and future; and the sustenance of knowing that no matter how crazy our worlds may feel the other 51 weeks of the year, we'll spend one glorious week in November safely swathed in the bizarre and beautiful traditions that weave our lives together from high tide to low tide, from Thanksgiving at Hilton Head to Thanksgiving at Hilton Head.
For fantastic ideas on creating deeper family connections over the Thanksgiving meal -- and every other dinner of the year -- check out Laurie David's great new book, The Family Dinner. She's included a few of my tips too, and I'm thrilled to be a part of her wonderful book.