As a family, my mom, dad, brother and I always spent Thanksgiving in our hometown of Washington, Indiana with relatives from my dad’s side of the family who lived nearby.

My grandmother Tillie took extra care in preparing these holiday meals from scratch and the results were extraordinary. My mom would make a big batch of divinity, a light, meringue-like candy that is still one of my favorites. After dinner, the kids would play board games while the adults listened to Guy Lombardo records. Once in a while, the older cousins would try and slip in a Beatles album or Rolling Stones record, but those LPs never made it to the turntable.

Before the night ended, phone calls would be made to the aunts and uncles who couldn’t make the trip home from Washington, DC. Year after year, the conversations were fairly consistent. We wish you could be here. Are you ready for Christmas? How’s the weather out there? While the content of those calls was never very serious, making the connection to our loved ones was a very important part of the festivities and one that continued long after my grandmother had passed.

Our family Thanksgivings were traditional–and probably very similar to celebrations in millions of homes across the country. They weren’t fancy or extravagant, but they were special to us, and they will always be one of the many things I’m thankful for.