Wrapped in Foil

Thanksgiving is not complete without tinfoil.
No. I'm dead serious.
When the day of giving thanks rolls around my family celebrates with food, 
Lots, and lots of food.
And if we don't have tinfoil, well then, whats the point of having thanksgiving? 
First of all, tinfoil goes under almost every thing.
A glossy blanket for the chicken
An extra layer on the grill.
A tiled floor for the steak.
And it goes on top of everything too.
A roof for the mac and cheese
A sky for the rice and beans,
A tent for the steamed vegetables. 
Heck, it can go inside things.
A mirror for the oven,
A moon in the microwave, 
An object in my little cousins mouths. 
But most importantly it goes around.
It hugs each entree and embraces each appetizer.
The square tinfoil containers gently fold around the stuffing.
The circular aluminum tupperware crinkles around the potato salad.

There the food is kept rich and safe,
So even after we part ways I can still taste the cloves and oregano. 
In there the food is warm,
So I can still feel your breath as you laugh, and your motherly kiss on my cheek.
There the food is preserved,
So I remember the pranks we played on our cousins, and your love radiating out of the kitchen windows .
And so I feel you, all of you,
My family. In greater force than before.
Your presence is sweet and spicy and savory and warm,
just like the food we all make and eat together.
And when its time to say goodbyes,
All those memories and flavors come back with us.
Next to me, in the middle seat of the car.
A large blue canvas bag,
Precariously stacked with all the food, pranks, laughs and conversations we just had.
Safely wrapped in shiny aluminum foil. 

So no. 
There is no point in having thanksgiving if there is no tinfoil.
I will not be convinced otherwise. Really.
Because nothing will be savored, protected and preserved
If not for the crinkly reflective paper. 
The hours we spent together would be a hazy memory by the time we got on the parkway
- forgotten-
If not for the food that blesses my senses with your presents once again.
The literal aluminum vessels of secrete family recipes and old lively stories that run through my bloodstream
Are my core memories of all of you.
And the wonderful aromas we breath in have a tiled floor,
A shiny sky, a silver moon and ample crinkles that none of us can ever smooth out.
I don't want to smooth them out.
Because there are so few times I get to see all of you,
Together, in the same room.
Around the same four corners, 
With the same wonderful people.
We all want to savor every moment, every burnt carrot, every toothy or toothless smile, every hot breath that comes with it.

So we wrap all of it up in tinfoil.
We squeeze the edges and twist the corners so nothing falls out and nothing bleeds together.
This way I can savor those flavores for just a bit longer. 
And taste your rich love for a few more days
I don't know how much longer I'll have your dish as part of my tinfoil wrappings
How much longer you'll place your hand on top of mine as we stir sauces or carrotcake batter.
But I will be able to savor every single bite with the help of large roles of aluminum foil.
And I can link every conversation and giggle we shared through your pot of rice and beans
Lovingly cloacked in shiny tinsel wrappings
And then I will never forget what I'm truly thankful for. 
All of you. 
Thanksgiving is not complete without tinfoil.