A Christmas Frozen in Time

As a young mother, I was delighted to be hosting my first big family Christmas Day gathering. I had a special meal planned. I had ordered a crown pork roast for our group and had all of the dishes planned for our holiday feast. Vegetables for roasting were cleaned and prepped and the desserts were already made. I had made my special cranberry sauce, from fresh cranberries, and stocked the house with a variety of beverages, and snacks.

Working like a tornado, beginning three weeks before Christmas eve, I had the house cleaned, the guest bedroom readied, and extra pillows, blankets, beds, and more, ready for the overflow. I had a list, and it all was completed except for picking up the meat order and doing a little bit of last-minute, fun, shopping with my husband and two children.

As the four of us wandered the mall, we stopped for coffee and lunch and chatted about the arrival of our relatives from out of state. All of our guests were expected between 7.00 and 9:00 PM. We had plenty of family time to enjoy. I felt happy and relaxed, with the knowledge that we were prepared to host, chat, laugh, and share with our clan.

As the day wore on into the late afternoon, the kids got a bit tired, and we headed home. Hubby and I tag teamed caring for our little ones, while the other wrapped and labeled our final purchases. We popped a Christmas CD into the player and had a light supper at home. We moved to the living room and enjoyed watching Frosty the Snowman until our first guest arrived.

My sister’s arrival put us all into motion, with hugs and cries of joy. My children adored their aunt, who delighted them by exclaiming at how big of a boy and girl, that they were now. She had brought a game to play with them, and we all sat on the floor, in front of the Christmas tree, to share the fun. Those hippos were sure hungry!

My parents called and said that they were only about an hour away, on the highway, and would arrive soon. The weather had been mild for a few days, in our area of Wisconsin and the roads were clear of snow for safe traveling. My mother asked about special food items, and I assured her that all had been purchased and that we were ready for them. There were six people coming in her van, and my mother and I had worked out a list, far in advance, to ensure everyone’s favorites were available. My mother and I do not share complementary styles—I am a planner and a list maker, and she’s a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of gal, but we had this first, ever, get-together in the bag.

When we saw the van lights, through the house window, my sister grabbed the little one, and I took her brother’s hand, and we all met the family, in the cold, on the driveway. As we greeted them and hugged, my husband helped with the bags and boxes and we carried them into the house. After a few minutes of chatting and discussing which kids, bags, and people, went where, we finally all settled into chairs to see who needed a drink, or a snack.

My mother shared the scarier parts of the multistate trip with us, as we congratulated Dad for navigating through the challenge of the five people in his van, being loud, complaining, and not planning their bathroom stops well. We shared coffee and some dubiously decorated Christmas cookies. The older kids went downstairs to play video games, and the littlest ones stayed upstairs with the grown-ups to giggle and chat.

I was so happy, I hurt. I felt grateful for my family and blessed and proud to be sharing this holiday with them. My mother asked about the turkey, I explained that we were having a crown roast. We all liked pork, but this was a dish we’d never had at home, and I thought the presentation would be special for the occasion.

Then I froze, as all of my blood ran cold. The crown roast---we had never picked it up! I called the store, but I already knew the answer, that they had closed at 5:00 PM. There were no other stores in our small city, at that time, open past 5:00 PM on Christmas eve. I felt like a complete idiot and was sickened by my ineptitude. There was silence for a few seconds.

Then my sister said, “I have a frozen turkey in my car.”

“What?,” I said. “Why do you have a frozen turkey in your car?”

“A client of mine gave me the turkey, and I thought I’d bring it here, as I thought we could cook it, sometime, since we’d all be here. I figured we’d eat it, and why not bring it? I put it in my trunk, today, frozen and it’s been below freezing, so it’s not thawed out,” she said, as she got up to get her coat and boots to bring it in.

My mother jumped in with, “We can thaw it out in the sink, in cold water. The first year that I made a turkey, I didn’t realize that it had to be thawed out days before, so I had to do it that way.”

We brought the turkey in and took turns tending to it in the sink. It took all of the night and most of the next day, but we did get it thawed, cleaned, and cooked. As I had stuffing planned for the crown roast, we had stuffing for the turkey. The day after Christmas, I picked up the crown roast, and we had another splendid meal.

Of course, my family teased me mercilessly, about not having a meal for their Christmas dinner. As it was our only Christmas altogether, as family members moved away, it is still remembered fondly. Kindly, no one brings up the turkey thawing activity, that kept us from being frozen out of a nice Christmas meal.