My Take Tuesday: Thanksgiving Dinner in Emery, Utah

2021 was a difficult year. That summer, my maternal grandparents quietly departed this world just 40 days apart, a few months shy of celebrating their 72nd wedding anniversary. Words fail to fully capture the profound sadness I still carry or the immense void their passing left. Life is a strange mix of beauty and fragility—perfect in one moment, then suddenly bittersweet. Without warning, the icy hand of death finds every door. What remains are memories, and how I long for one more hug, one more visit, one more meal—especially one more Thanksgiving.

The sense of smell is uniquely tied to memory, perhaps more than any other sense. For me, the aroma of turkey roasting in the oven instantly transports me back to the Thanksgivings of my childhood. With that first scent, I’m whisked away to my grandparents’ home in Emery, Utah, surrounded by love, laughter, and the timeless magic of family.

Grandma’s cooking was unmatched. Her kitchen was a symphony of scents—freshly baked rolls, savory stuffing, creamy potatoes, and roasted butternut squash. Each dish had its own delicious aroma, but together, they combined into a fragrance that defined Thanksgiving. It greeted us the moment we opened the door, wrapping us in warmth and anticipation. Those dishes, crafted from generations-old family recipes, weren’t just food—they were love served on a plate.

I can still see my spot at the table, facing south, surrounded by siblings and cousins. The sounds of adults laughing and chatting in the kitchen mixed with the irresistible smells and the hum of a cozy home. When I close my eyes, I can vividly picture the Thanksgivings at Hugh and Shonna Peterson’s house.

The joyful chaos of family life filled every corner—conversations overlapping, laughter spilling from room to room. The stokermatic furnace added a faint, nostalgic scent of burning coal, anchoring the homey atmosphere. We ate with abandon, savoring every bite, but it wasn’t just the food that nourished us. It was the shared experience, the constancy of tradition, and the deep connection of family.

After dinner, I often played card games with Grandma or joined my cousins to watch football or laugh at James Arrington’s one-man show on VHS. Later, I’d drift back to the kitchen’s warm glow to hear Grandpa share one of his stories.

No one told stories like Hugh Peterson. His sharp memory and playful embellishments brought history to life, holding us spellbound. His laughter was contagious, his joy tangible. With a twinkle in his eye, he transported us to another time, leaving us in stitches, tears of laughter streaming down our faces. Grandpa’s stories were more than entertainment—they were gifts of wisdom, humor, and love.

Those dinners in Emery, Utah, remain among my most cherished memories. In a world often consumed by chaos, they are a reminder of what truly matters. The simplicity and warmth of those gatherings ground me, serving as a reminder of life’s true treasures—family, love, and shared moments.

Life is fleeting. Joy often comes in small, overlooked moments: the glow of a sunset, the scent of freshly cut grass, the silence of a snowfall, or the amber moon rising over the Wasatch Mountains. These are life’s gifts, available to those willing to pause and notice.

Since yesterday is gone and tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, let’s make this Thanksgiving count. Spend time with those you love. Laugh until it hurts, hold on to what matters, and live fully in the moment. Cherish the people who accept you, support your dreams, and stand by you through life’s trials.

And that is my take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM