Taking a momentary respite from work, sitting at my home-office desk, eyes closed, memories of Thanksgiving flood my mind. I take some deep breaths, meditation-style, and slowly a mélange of aromas – cranberry, allspice, pumpkin – envelops me, as if I am back again in the small one-level house in which I grew up. I feel it and smile.
These memories slowly relieve the stress that has become omnipresent in some form since the pandemic’s start. I realize, “I am meditating!” Admittedly, this form of mental exercise is not my forte, and I envy those who do it effortlessly.
Growing up, Thanksgiving was a big “tadoo” in our family, even though we were only a quartet – mother, father, older brother and me. While we didn’t have a lot, we had enough, and this holiday represented laughter and togetherness. It also meant elbowing my brother for space on the couch, peering straight ahead at the Zenith TV, a mammoth-like, treasured monument in almost every U.S. home, and I was giddy from excitement to see the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade with its billowing floats and marchers, clad in vibrant-colored ensembles. This ritual was never missed in our home.
With excitement, I awaited Thanksgiving and the accompanying butterfly fluttering in the stomach, like anticipating a first date. This feeling began a week prior to Thanksgiving, because of both holiday and the annual ritual of holiday shopping the day after for my dad and me. We were very much a part of the American culture that engaged in early-morning Black Friday activities, fervently hunting for sales. Unbeknownst to me as a child, our annual ritual was part of something bigger, helping retailers move their balance sheets from red to black.
The pandemic has changed me – personally and professionally – like it has many other people.
This year’s Thanksgiving, “Black Friday” and five-week holiday season certainly will be different for many who enjoy these shopping adventures that my dad and I did. For safety and economic reasons, more consumers will shop online rather than venturing out. Simultaneously, more retailers will encourage online sales to thwart the pandemic’s already existing negative effects on in-person business.
Like all retail executives, I know analyses of prior years’ performances will give me little guidance this year. No one knows how consumers are going to spend, or not spend, during this holiday season. My earlier predicted forecasts are irrelevant. While wine retail sales always have flourished starting a few days prior to Thanksgiving and continuing through New Year’s – a result of dinners and gatherings – I anticipate a difference this year. Still, people will come together to cook and invoke beautiful Thanksgiving aromas, such as those I remember, but possibly in smaller form.
Undeniably, the pandemic has changed me – personally and professionally – like it has many other people. Yet, I will try not to allow this virus, aiming to infiltrate every home, ruin our holiday. I will still wake early to bake and initiate inviting aromas in the air, serving as an alarm clock for my daughter and husband; watch this year’s reinvented Macy’s Day parade; “dress up” (even if an “oldie but goodie” that I pull from the closet); set the table with the “better” dishes; and select a special wine. Nevertheless, my family will engage in boisterous talking and laughter, even before the wine is poured!
While safety is the utmost importance, I still embrace the in-person connection with clients and their families, even behind masks, who visit the store pre- and post-Thanksgiving to select their holiday wines. These too are their annual rituals and pastimes, just like the ones I so loved with my father many years ago.
Jessica Norris Granatiero is the founder of The Savory Grape, a wine, beer and spirits shop in East Greenwich.