Carol — thirty-eight Thanksgivings. Three houses. Two of them in this kitchen. I have, in all that time, been responsible for exactly one thing on this day: the turkey. You have been responsible for the other ninety-seven things. The grandkids think the meal appears. I know better. The kids know better. We are all, every November, quietly in awe of you. Sit down at your end of the table today. The carving knife is mine. The rest of it is still you.
