A Lone Star Feast Under the Sun
Thanksgiving in Texas has a way of blending tradition with a touch of the unexpected. While much of the country gathers indoors around fireplaces and dining tables, Friendswood offered us something different in 2017: a holiday celebrated outside, in the driveway near the swimming pool, under skies so clear they seemed painted.
That year, our Thanksgiving wasnāt just about turkey and stuffing. It was about people ā friends who feel like family, laughter that carried across the neighborhood, and the joy of sharing a meal in the open air. James and Stacy Parson were there, Amanda and Leland Globke joined us, my daughter Saydie Walker played nearby, and other friends drifted in and out, each adding their own flavor to the day.
The Driveway Became Our Dining Room
Thereās something magical about transforming an ordinary space into the heart of a celebration. In Friendswood, our driveway became the dining room, with folding tables lined up, chairs pulled close, and the swimming pool shimmering just a few feet away. The sun was warm but not oppressive, the kind of lateāNovember day Texans know well ā crisp enough to remind you itās autumn, yet bright enough to make you forget winter is coming.
Children darted around, chasing each other across the yard, while adults settled into conversations that ebbed and flowed like the breeze. Saydie, my daughter, was at the center of it all, her laughter ringing out as she played with friends. The pool reflected the sky, a mirror of blue that made the whole scene feel expansive, as if our little gathering was part of something larger.
The Feast That Brought Us Together
No Thanksgiving is complete without food, and ours was a spread that blended tradition with Texas flair. The turkey, golden and fragrant, sat at the center of the table, surrounded by stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce. But this was Friendswood, so alongside the classics came smoked brisket, jalapeƱo cornbread, and pecan pie ā dishes that spoke of the Lone Star Stateās culinary soul.
James and Stacy Parson arrived with a casserole that disappeared almost as quickly as it was set down. Amanda and Leland Globke brought desserts, their pecan pie a sweet reminder of Texas orchards. Friends contributed sides and snacks, each dish carrying a story, a memory, or a family tradition.
We ate slowly, savoring not just the flavors but the company. Plates were passed, seconds were encouraged, and no one left the table hungry. The driveway may have been our dining room, but the feast made it feel like the grandest hall.
Conversations in the Sunshine
Thanksgiving is as much about stories as it is about food. That afternoon, conversations flowed easily, weaving together memories, jokes, and plans for the future. James told tales of past adventures, Stacy chimed in with her sharp wit, and Amanda and Leland shared updates on their lives, their voices carrying warmth and humor.
Saydie and the other children created their own world nearby, inventing games and laughing until their cheeks flushed. Their joy was contagious, reminding us that Thanksgiving isnāt just about looking back ā itās about watching the next generation build their own traditions.
The sun stayed with us all day, casting long shadows as the afternoon stretched into evening. There was no rush, no sense of time slipping away. Just the steady rhythm of friendship, food, and gratitude.
The Spirit of Friendswood
Friendswood has always been a town defined by community. Itās the kind of place where neighbors wave as they pass, where gatherings spill out of houses and into yards, and where Thanksgiving feels less like a private holiday and more like a shared celebration.
That day in 2017, the spirit of Friendswood was alive in our driveway. It wasnāt about grand gestures or elaborate decorations. It was about people coming together, bringing what they could, and finding joy in the simple act of sharing space. The swimming pool sparkled, the tables were crowded with plates, and the air was filled with laughter.
It was a reminder that Thanksgiving doesnāt need to be confined to tradition. It can be reimagined, reshaped, and celebrated in ways that reflect the place and the people. In Friendswood, that meant sunshine, brisket, and a driveway full of friends.
Reflections on Gratitude
Looking back, Thanksgiving 2017 stands out not because of any single moment, but because of the way all the pieces fit together. The food was delicious, yes, but it was the people who made it memorable. James and Stacy, Amanda and Leland, Saydie, and the circle of friends who joined us ā each brought something irreplaceable to the day.
Gratitude is often spoken of in abstract terms, but that afternoon it was tangible. It was in the shared laughter, the clinking of glasses, the passing of plates. It was in the way the sun warmed our shoulders and the way the pool reflected the sky. It was in the knowledge that we were part of something larger than ourselves ā a community, a tradition, a moment in time.
A Thanksgiving to Remember
As the sun dipped lower and the day drew to a close, we lingered outside, reluctant to let go of the warmth and connection. The driveway, once just a place to park cars, had become the heart of our Thanksgiving. The swimming pool, usually a summer retreat, had been a backdrop to autumnās feast. And Friendswood, with its smallātown charm, had given us a Thanksgiving that was both ordinary and extraordinary.
Thanksgiving 2017 in Friendswood wasnāt about perfection. It was about presence. It was about being there, together, under the Texas sun, sharing food, stories, and gratitude. It was about James and Stacy, Amanda and Leland, Saydie, and all the friends who made the day whole.
Years later, the memory remains vivid: the clear sky, the laughter, the taste of pecan pie, and the feeling of belonging. Thatās the true gift of Thanksgiving ā not the turkey or the trimmings, but the people who gather, the places that hold us, and the moments that remind us how lucky we are.
