Folan: Gratitude finds its way home
As Thanksgiving approaches, the essence of family and gratitude takes center stage, particularly at the dining room table—a cherished space that transcends mere meals. Dr. Peter F. Folan reflects on this intimate gathering place in his heartfelt narrative, which captures the significance of shared experiences and the emotional weight of tradition. For Folan, Thanksgiving has always been a time for gathering at his parents’ home on Munroe Street, where the aroma of roasted turkey and the sight of his mother, the “Martha Stewart of Munroe Street,” set the scene for a warm and inviting celebration. The table, adorned with gleaming china and polished silver, served not only as a place for nourishment but also as a backdrop for laughter, stories, and even solemn moments that marked the passages of life, from birthdays to farewells.
This year marks a poignant shift for Folan and his family, as they prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving in a new home for the first time in 45 years. The emotional weight of leaving behind a house filled with memories is palpable, yet Folan offers a comforting perspective: a house is merely a frame, while the true essence of home is carried within us. The love and gratitude cultivated in that dining room will accompany them as they gather around a new table, continuing the legacy of hospitality and connection that his mother exemplified. Folan emphasizes that true hospitality is about honoring those we invite into our homes, making room for their stories and experiences. He reminds us that gratitude is not just a seasonal sentiment but a daily practice that enriches our lives, even amidst challenges.
As families across the country prepare to gather this Thanksgiving, Folan’s reflections serve as a poignant reminder of the power of gratitude and the enduring bonds of love. He encourages us to embrace the spirit of Thanksgiving in our own lives, ensuring that every meal shared becomes a celebration of who we are and how we belong. With a dishtowel slung over his shoulder, Folan looks forward to creating new memories around a new table, where laughter and love will continue to flourish, embodying the true spirit of home. Happy Thanksgiving!
Every Thanksgiving, as kitchens fill with the scent of roasting turkeys and cornbread cooling on the counter, I’m reminded that the dining room table has always been more than a place to eat. It’s where we learn who we are — where gratitude takes root and love takes shape. In my family, our table didn’t just serve meals; it built our home.
For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving meant gathering in my parents’ house on Munroe Street. I can still see myself as a kindergartener, while my father, a World War II Navy veteran, and my mother, the Martha Stewart of Munroe Street, welcomed family, friends, and neighbors.
My mother always wore a fancy apron and kept a dishtowel draped over her shoulder. She was the last to sit — only when everyone else had what they needed. The china gleamed, the Waterford sparkled, and the silver was polished. Around that table, we shared stories, laughter, and the kind of lively debate that usually ended in grace.
Over the years, that table witnessed every chapter of our lives — birthdays, graduations, Christmas mornings — as if the chairs remembered our names. There were solemn gatherings too: quiet dinners before each of my parents’ funerals, when the air was heavy, but love held us up. Our table knew our joy and our sorrow.
When I married and had children, life came full circle. I bought my childhood home when my oldest was in kindergarten. A new table, the same dining room — the same rhythm of gratitude and belonging continued. But this year is different. For the first time in 45 years, my family won’t celebrate Thanksgiving in that house. We moved. The room that held so much of our story now belongs to someone else.
Change, as it always does, tugs at the heart. There’s an ache in closing a door for the last time, but I’ve come to understand that a house is only the frame — home is what we carry within it. The love that filled those rooms doesn’t stay behind; it travels with us. Gratitude turns any house into a home.
When we host others this season, let’s remember we’re called not just to feed them, but to honor who they are. True hospitality isn’t about impressing anyone; it’s about making room for them.
Gratitude was something my mother practiced long before I understood the word. It wasn’t a moment before the meal; it was the way she moved through the world. Even when life was difficult and she battled leukemia, she still set her table with care. Thanksgiving isn’t something we feel only when life is easy. It’s a daily habit that helps us see how much good surrounds us.
This Thanksgiving, I’ll sling a dishtowel over my shoulder, and we’ll gather around a new table, laughing over old stories and sharing new ones. Though the table may be different, what gathers around it hasn’t changed: the people, the laughter, and the way love builds a home.
With every meal we share this year, may gratitude find its way home, reminding us of who we are and how we belong.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Dr. Peter F. Folan is the Head of School at Dexter Southfield
