The holidays are a lot, and Turkey Day cues the start. Writer–and UBalt MFA in Creative Writing student–Ashley Krumrine describes a recent Thanksgiving that marked a moment when everything changed, but (mostly) not in terrible ways.
Step 1: Thaw the turkey
For every 4 pounds of frozen turkey, you will need 24 hours of thawing time. For a 14-pound bird, plan on pulling the turkey from the freezer five days before the big feast. Move it to the fridge for safe thawing.
After driving eight hours with a restless two-year-old, my mom and I pull into the gravel drive of Grandma’s home in Pinehurst, NC. The temperature is notably warmer from our Pennsylvania temps, and the sun has already set for the day.
We walk around the garage where Grandma welcomes us at the door with a Southern “Hi, sweetie!” Her spotless beige, mint green, and blush pink décor can be seen lit up through the front bay window. Minus the upgraded flooring and kitchen appliances, the house is the same house that I have frequented for the past 25 years. Knowing Grandma, she has spent days cleaning and preparing the house for our arrival.
“It’s good to see you, Mary!” she says, hugging my mom.
Once a Baltimore area local, Grandma retired to a senior golfing community, where the smell of pine needles covering the ground brings back childhood memories each time we visit—fetching golf balls from the pond, feeding the turtles stale bread, putting on the greens at sunset, and collecting pinecones from the yard.
Step 2: Bring out the turkey
Remove the turkey from the fridge and let it sit at room temperature for about 30 minutes. The turkey will cook more evenly if it warms a bit before being popped into the oven.
Charlotte is excited to be at her Gigi’s house for Thanksgiving, but like most grandparents’ homes, there is not a childproof area in sight. Glass trinkets and nice picture frames line the shelves in the front hall, porcelain dishes await on the glass paneled dining room table, and the tan carpet is crisp and pristine. I dread the amount of effort it will take to keep a feisty two-year-old’s hands off all the breakables over the next few days.
Thirty minutes into our visit, we hear a “Whoa” and thud in the back bedroom. Setting down the bags we are unloading, I head to the back to see Grandma on the floor, Charlotte standing next to her dresser.
“You okay?” I say, helping her off the floor.
Grandma gets herself to all fours and uses the dresser to help her stand. She grabs her side with a grimace but steadily walks to the kitchen and then to the living room to rest on the couch. I give her some ice for her side and help her prop her legs on the coffee table.
Step 3: Set up the roasting pan
The gravy comes from tasty pan drippings. You’ll want to add veggies like chopped onion, celery and carrots to the bottom of the pan along with the turkey neck and gizzards. The veggies will help flavor the drippings, as well as help protect them from evaporating away in the oven.
It’s when Grandma goes to stand from the couch that we know something is seriously wrong. She is unable to bear weight on her left leg and it is noticeably shorter than her right. “It feels like it’s floating,” she says. “It feels like it’s not connected.”
At 9 PM, only two hours after arriving at Grandma’s house, Mom and I help EMS get her onto a stretcher and into the back of an ambulance. Because of COVID, only one visitor is allowed with each patient at the hospital. Mom meets Grandma in the ER, and I anxiously wait at home for any news. It can’t be broken, I think. She got up and walked to the kitchen.
“It’s broken,” Mom says over the phone a little after midnight. It’s broken, and all because Grandma stumbled over Charlotte in her bedroom with the lights off.
Step 4: Season the turkey
Pat the turkey dry with a paper towel and rub with a little salt and your favorite seasonings. If you have fresh herbs, add a handful to the cavity, along with some wine or water. It helps keep the turkey moist and flavors the drippings, making great-tasting gravy later.
“How did she fall?” Dad asks over the phone the next morning, inquiring about his mother.
“She tripped and fell over Charlotte in her bedroom…” I reply, feeling even more guilt saying it out loud.
“Was the light on?” he asks.
“No,” I say quickly, frustrated at my father’s incessant need to know how it happened versus how she is.
“You need to get things in order and make your way down here to be with her,” I tell him. “Mom and I can stay for a few days, but she will need someone at home while she recovers!”
“Um, okay,” he says in disbelief. “I will get packed and head down there in a few hours.”
“Okay,” I reply. “We don’t know an exact time, but she will be prepped for her hip replacement this afternoon. I will keep you updated.”
We hang up. Lord, help me. My divorced parents will be living in the same household for the next few days.
Step 5: Cover with foil
Just before placing the turkey in the oven, create an oven shield out of aluminum foil. Mold a few sheets of foil around the breast area to protect the bird from overbrowning.
Grandma is sleeping when I walk into the hospital room. Her peppered and permed curls are tucked into a netted surgical cap, and her mouth hangs slightly open with her fatigued breaths. At 88, she still looks the same, but her skin appears more translucent, there are more wrinkles and age spots, and she has really thinned out over the years.
Her room is large, with the bed on the left, a couch in the back under the window, and an entertainment area with a sink on the right. The computer to the left of her bed provides enough light for me to navigate the space.
I gently rub her left arm, knowing that she won’t be able to hear me without her hearing aids. She groggily opens her eyes and says, “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi Grandma,” I reply. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m alright,” she says. “The one nurse was very rough on my hip earlier when I had to use the commode…”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Can I get you anything?”
But she dozes off in between sentences.
I sit on the couch in the dark for a while, letting her rest. Knowing mom is outside in the car waiting to take me home, I rub her arm again to give her my final love before she goes into surgery.
Step 6: Roast at 325 for 15 min/lb
Grab your oven mitts because it’s time to cook the turkey!
“Everything went well,” the surgeon says. “Due to the bone crumbling and suspected osteoporosis, we had to do a full hip replacement.” Mom and I are filled with relief. “She will be assisted out of bed into a chair tomorrow morning, and PT will have her walking in the next day or two.”
My Dad arrives late that night. “Hey Mary,” he says to my mom. “Hey Russ.” She returns the gesture. “How’s mom?” he asks. We update him on what the surgeon said.
Dad sleeps in Grandma’s bed that night, mom sleeps in the guest bed, and I sleep on an air mattress with Charlotte. We all get some much-needed rest.
Step 7: Check the temperature
Insert the pin of the thermometer into the thickest part of the thigh, being careful not to come into contact with the bone! Remove the turkey from the oven when the internal temperature is 5 degrees below the desired doneness. Don’t worry, turkeys continue to cook even after being removed from the oven, but by removing the bird early, you’re actually ensuring that it doesn’t overcook or dry out.
It’s Thanksgiving—the oddest Thanksgiving I have ever experienced. My grandma broke her hip, my mom and dad are in the same house together, and my husband is stuck back home attending to a job obligation.
Mom leaves early to go see Grandma, Dad awkwardly plays Paw Patrol with the two-year-old granddaughter he rarely sees, and I decide that I am going to make the best out of a shitty situation and cook Thanksgiving dinner.
I prep the green bean casserole, peel the sweet potatoes, slice the bread for stuffing, and put the turkey in the oven. Charlotte helps me put the marshmallows on the sweet potato casserole, her process being “One for Charlotte” & “One for the taters.”
I proudly set the table for us to enjoy a meal together—and I watch as my mom takes a seat to my left and my dad to my right. A sight that I haven’t seen since I was three years old. A sight that I never imagined I would see again.
Step 8: Let it rest
After you take the turkey out of the oven, let it stand for 20 to 30 minutes before carving. And then there’s only one thing left to do—dig in!
Dad visits Grandma in the morning, while Mom and I work on packing up our things, both of us needing to get back home and to our jobs tomorrow. We arrive to the hospital around lunchtime, and I head into the lobby towards the reception desk, the digital scanner taking my temperature.
“I’m sorry,” the older lady tells me in her Southern drawl. “But that room has already had one visitor sign in for the day.”
“But I’m her granddaughter, and we are headed back home to Pennsylvania today. I wanted to say goodbye,” I plead. But my pleas are pushed to the side.
I walk back out to the car, holding in my tears and frustration. “I just wanna go home,” I tell my mom, too emotionally drained from all that has transpired. But Mom goes inside the lobby, contacts the nurse manager, and manages to get me 15 minutes to say goodbye.
I anxiously head up the elevator to her floor and put on a bright face.
“Don’t be upset, sweetie,” Grandma tells me when I walk in the door.
“I am just so sorry for how everything went,” I tell her through my tears, setting the Saran- wrapped plate of Thanksgiving leftovers on her side table.
“I took a little walk today,” she says to lighten the mood. “And they changed my dressing, which hurt like the devil!”
“That’s great that you walked, Grandma!” I reply. “I don’t have much time, but I wanted to bring you some food and hug you goodbye.”
“You take care of those great grandbabies for me,” she says patting my stomach, hearing aids squealing from our embrace. “Have a safe drive home, sweetie,” she says.
And I leave her to get some rest.
Step 9: Leftovers
In a saucepan, heat up leftover turkey fixings, gravy, and crumbled up stuffing. Pour over grits, and you have my Grandma’s Dressing.
Dad leaves Grandma two weeks after her fall, ensuring that she is set up with proper transportation for getting to doctor’s appointments and outpatient physical therapy.
The ladies in her golf group bring meals, and Grandma texts me pictures of her healing scar. She eagerly awaits permission from her surgeon to resume some light golf play.
We visit her later the next year—with not one little fall risk, but with two!
Recipe steps via https://www.tasteofhome.com/article/how-to-cook-a-turkey.
That’s how the cooking crumbles sometimes