Because my brother Stan and his family spend Thanksgiving with his wife Julie's family in TN, my family always celebrates Thanksgiving the Saturday before. Usually my dad and Stan deepfry the turkey in the huge fryer my parents have, my mom does the dressing and the sides (she loves to cook), and Julie and I bring a couple of things. Since dad had a heart attack and they spend most of their time in Atlanta for his rehab, Julie and I decided we were going to do most of the cooking so mom wouldn't be so overwhelmed. (Side note -- I hate, I mean HATE cooking any type of meat with a bone in it. I usually only cook boneless, skinless chicken breast at home, and my husband has to be very good in order for me to cook him a porkchop with a bone in it. I usually end up dry heaving. I wasn't always this bad, but the older I get, the more grossed out I get.) So, what did I volunteer to cook this year? You guessed it! The turkey!!!
A few years ago, I cooked a turkey for Thanksgiving for my friends. I had absolutely no problem pulling the bag of "parts" (gag) out of it. However, I knew this year was going to be different. My mom even asked if she needed to come over to get the stuff out, but I told her I needed to face my fears because I couldn't have people do that for me the rest of my life.
It was finally time yesterday to do it. I took the thawed out bird out of the frig. I cranked up the radio to try to get my mind off of it. I took the bird out of the packaging, and I just stared at it. I resisted the urge to trash it and just go buy a fully cooked one from the store down the road. About 15 minutes later, I got the guts (no pun intended) to look down its neck and stare at the bag of giblets. I closed my eyes, reached in, and yanked it out. I only gagged once. Then, I realized that the neck of the turkey was somewhere within. I didn't know if it was in the bag with the rest of the stuff or not. So what did I do? I felt around the outside of the bag to see if I could feel the neck. Major gagging started.
I didn't feel the neck, so I knew it was still somewhere in the stupid turkey. About this time, Wesley came in from outside, and started watching. He just stared in disbelief. He asked if I wanted him to do it, and I said no. I still don't know why I told him no. I turned the bird around and looked up its other end, and that's when I saw the neck looking back at me. Dry heaving starts. Wesley couldn't even laugh. My eyes were watery, face was red. Another few minutes go by, and I finally reached in and grabbed it. Oh my goodness. I pulled. It kept coming and coming. I pulled some more. How long is a f*#$ing turkey neck? I finally had it out and I threw it in the trash.
I cooked the damn turkey. I did laugh to myself once when I though about Mr. Bean's turkey experience. I took it to my parents house and they loved it. Thank God, because it they didn't, I would've made sure no one enjoyed any other part of their meal. :-)
On a happier note, Thanksgiving dinner was very special this year. I remember thinking in the cardiac icu waiting room how Thanksgiving and Christmas would be this year if dad didn't wake up from his coma. I thought about that a lot last night, too. Stan's prayer before the meal almost made me burst out in tears. I kept looking over at mom and dad throughout the night, and I just wanted to run over and hug them. I actually did a couple of times. I've never really taken mom and dad for granted, but I sure didn't thank them enough over the years for what they've done for me.
I was thinking last night about how dad never missed a softball game of mine. He helped coach my fast-pitch team I played on outside of school, but I went to Athens Christian School and they only had a slow-pitch team, and every team we played was about an hour or more away, sometimes 3 or 4 hours away. He always left work early to come see every single game. He was usually the only fan in our stands. How priceless is that?
Okay, now that I'm crying again, let's move on to working out. I didn't workout yesterday. I took yesterday as my "off" day. I splurged a little last night, but not as much as I usually do. I left my parents feeling satisfied, not sick.
I'm about to either go on a run in the rain (I LOVE running in the rain) or I'm gonna get on the dreadmill and do some intervals. Yay runners high! Do y'all get "runners high"?
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