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Let's get into the story. Take it away, Lorna. My mom was a master at putting on wondrous spreads at my family's holiday meals. Thanksgiving and Christmas, we would be privy to a feast fit for the finest of royalty. Tender, melt-in-your-mouth turkey, stuffing spiced just right, mashed potatoes laced with ribbons of golden butter, lump-free gravy, and, of course, turnips. We never had a holiday meal without a feast of turnips. It was my dad's all-time favourite, and Mom never missed a special serving of turnips. From as early as I can remember, till Mom and Dad went into the retirement home, this was our family tradition.
But shortly after moving into the retirement home, Dad passed away, and Mom came to live with me. It was the end of November when she arrived, so I, being a serious Christmas fanatic, was already planning our first Christmas together without my dad. I vowed to carry on the family tradition and serve Mom a scrumptious Christmas dinner. Mom, I explained as we sat watching her favourite TV show, Lawrence Welk, one evening in late December, I want Christmas to be special for the two of us this year. I'm going to cook our traditional Christmas meal just like you always did.
Do you like a turkey breast and have mashed potatoes and Dad's turnips and all the trimmings? Mom nodded and smiled as she kept her eyes glued to the TV, watching Bobby and Sissy waltz across the screen. That would be lovely, dear.
Mom was a lady of few words. Christmas Day came and Mom was seated patiently at my dining room table decorated with my red and white patterned Christmas dishes and a Festa Poinsettia tablecloth. She smoothed out her teal patterned blouse and teal matching pants as she quietly observed me fussing in the kitchen. She'd worn her most favourite outfit for this momentous occasion, one I had bought for her the Christmas before.
The rich teal shade brought out the sparkle in her eyes and the glow of her baby's soft cheeks. Meanwhile, I was in the kitchen red-faced and sweating profusely where I had been most of the afternoon, frantically trying to pull this dinner off while feeling about as frazzled as a last-minute shopper ten minutes before the stores were to close on Christmas Eve. How does one juggle the slicing of the turkey, mashing the potatoes and turnips, stirring the gravy so it is lump-free and not burnt, and keeping everything piping hot at exactly the same time?
I had lived on my own most of my adult life. Preparing a dinner meant punching a number into the microwave and pressing start. I was way over my head, but by the grace of God and a box of stovetop stuffing, I managed to pull it off. Finally, with an air of importance, I brought the steaming bowls of our Christmas dinner to the table, careful to place the prized turnips, mashed and laden with butter, near her. I gave Mum a peck on the cheek, told her I loved her, and sat down, ready to dig in.
Mum surveyed the feast in front of her and remarked glowingly, You've sure done a nice job, Lorna. Let's eat. I'm as hungry as a horse. Mum and I started to load our plates up when I noticed she was not taking any turnips. Mum, why aren't you having any turnips? Well, I don't like turnips, dear, she replied matter-of-factly, as if she were telling me the weather. What do you mean you don't like turnips? I sputtered, not believing what I had just heard. My fork clattered onto the plate, shattering the festive mood. We've all eaten turnips at every holiday my whole life.
You never refused to eat them, and you never told us you didn't like them. Mum's face softened and she smiled as she revealed her lifelong secret. I did it for your dad. He loved turnips, and I loved him. Tears welled up as I thought of this simple love story that had played out every holiday meal in secret devotion and selflessness, unbeknownst to my brother and me, and who knows, maybe even my dad. I looked at Mum with new admiration and respect. Mum didn't ever have turnips again that I was aware of.
Dad was gone. The turnips had served their noble purpose. As for me, I love turnips, and I continue the tradition of having turnips at the holidays to honour my dad and my mum and their love for each other.
I always buy the biggest turnip I can find, and although cutting it up into chunks for boiling is far from my favourite job, I think of Mum doing this over and over all those years, probably with the same angst and dislike. Knowing this, I try to chop each piece with a daughter's heart full of love and gratitude for her parents. Every holiday, I witnessed a simple gift of love.
You just never know where love will turnip. And a terrific job on the production, editing and storytelling by our own Reagan Habib and Monty Montgomery. And a terrific job also and a special thanks to Lorna Jean Estelle for sharing this story about her mother and father and the Christmas tradition that she learned a whole lot about after her father had passed. We'd also like to thank our regular contributor up on Kodiak Island in Alaska, Leslie Leland Fields, for turning us on to this audio.
Lorna Jean is a writing student of hers. And what a story we learned indeed. This was that first Christmas without a loved one.
We've all been there. This was without Lorna Jean's dad, and she did everything she could to prepare the very kind of dinner that her mum had prepared. This was the daughter serving the mum and the daughter loving the mum. And then it got time to eat the turnips. And it turned out, well, mum didn't want them. Mum didn't even like them. And she said, why did you eat them all those years? And she said, I did it for your dad. He loved turnips. And I loved him. And I looked at my mum, she said, with new admiration and respect. What a simple, simple sentence.
And if we all lived that way, it would be a better world. A special thanks to Lorna Jean Estelle, her love story involving, of all things, turnips, here on Our American Stories. Music Music Music Music Music The Unshakeables podcast is kicking off season two with an episode you won't want to miss. Join host Ben Walter, CEO of Chase for Business, as he welcomes a very special guest, Chairman and CEO of JPMorgan Chase, Jamie Dimon. Hear about the challenges facing small businesses and some of the uh-oh moments Jamie has overcome.
Listen wherever you get your podcasts. Chase mobile app is available for select mobile devices. Message and data rates may apply. J.P. Morgan Chase Bank, N.A. Member FDIC.
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