“We’re gonna need more extension cords,” my cousin quipped. It was a running joke that the outlets in my grandma’s garage on Thanksgiving resembled that scene with Chevy Chase and Beverly D’Angelo in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Yep, you heard that right. We annually celebrated Thanksgiving in my grandma’s garage. That’s because four generations of my family would no longer fit in within the walls of Grandma’s little house. A Wisconsin blizzard could be blowing beyond the garage door, but the space inside was filled to the brim with the warmth of love, laughter and luscious food.

It was a tradition to arrive by the carloads to Grandma’s house. She’s our tiny and talented cook and the resilient grand matriarch of my Filipino-American family. Across the generations, Thanksgiving was a day we all looked forward to. Due to our mixed-heritage, the enormous feast consisted of Nesco roasters filled with turkey, ham, mashed potatoes and authentic pansit (a Filipino noodle dish). Hence the numerous extension cords to keep the roasters warm and run space heaters which made us sweat beneath our seasonal sweaters. Aunts, uncles, cousins, wives, husbands, sisters, brothers and second cousins all rotated to buzz around Grandma as she continually dished us food by the healthy loving spoonful. Cell phones were only used to capture unflattering and comical photos of full mouths and even fuller bellies.

There would be seconds, thirds and then onto the table of eye-popping desserts. Pumpkin, apple, and pecan pies, bars, cookies, pineapple upside-down cake and tubs of Cool Whip plus the ever-present Jello. The roar of conversation would come to a lull as our digestive tracks shifted into overdrive. A Packers game crackled on the solid-state radio as the activity of Lambeau Field wafted into the garage. A hush washed over us if the sportscaster shrieked, “he’s at the 30, 20, 10, he’s…. it’s…a TOUCHDOWN!” We’d bounce around in triumphant jubilation, always careful not to trip or mangle on our bodies on those extension cords.