A Very Yooper Thanksgiving
Snowpocalypse of 2025
The days leading up to Thanksgiving 2025 were not for the faint of heart. We received about 30 inches of snow before Thursday, and what is normally a straightforward 4.5-hour drive to the cities became a perilous trek we wisely decided to avoid.
Making Room at the Table
As an only child of a single parent, being separated from family during the holidays can feel like losing a part of yourself. Luckily, moving to a dead-end street in a small town comes with an unexpected blessing, you get adopted by the locals as a sort of proxy family. And trust me, it’s very important to let that happen.
A Neighborly Invitation
It all started when I needed to borrow a shovel from a neighbor to dig out my buried Subaru. When I returned it, they asked if we were really going to attempt the drive. Standing in the cold, bundled in every piece of snow gear I owned, I realized something: the UP was my new home, and this was my new village. I was being invited into their home—and their lives.
This holiday was bound to be different, and if you know me at all, handling change isn’t my strong suit. We were stepping into the unknown: new people, a new place, a completely new holiday experience.
Getting to Know the Neighbors
I had met our neighbor a few times over the fall during his morning walks with his dog. Even as someone who doesn’t particularly like dogs, I couldn’t help but be charmed by this old, half-blind rescue who found joy in the simplest things, like visiting the other dogs on the street.
His human, our neighbors, are some of the kindest people the UP has to offer. Our neighborhood is full of people you hope to move next to. This couple we were lucky enough to spend thanksgiving with live just a couple houses down on our dead end street, He is a history buff, could tell you more about this area than any library. And she is a “super knitter,” gave us a little taste of her craft by sending us home with the warmest hat and mitten set imaginable.
Thanksgiving Dinner
We arrived at their house just as they were pulling the last of the food out of the oven. The big Thanksgiving parade was on TV, and classic jams were playing on the radio. I had never felt so at home during a holiday.
Mary prepared a meal full of nostalgic dishes I’ll not soon forget. I tend to be a bit of a recluse, as my mother and landlord like to say. But sitting around the table, sharing good conversation and the best pumpkin pie, was the perfect way to celebrate my first Yooper Thanksgiving.
Home Is Where the Holiday Is
I have never in my life been invited into a stranger’s home and treated like family. It’s a feeling you don’t often find. If anything, this experience reinforced my theory that the Upper Peninsula is its own kind of holiday special, warming your heart and filling it with all the fuzzy, joyful feelings that make the season truly memorable.
