All my family has gathered recently in Los Angeles. When you live so far away from family the family reunions become more and more precious as the years go by. Now that I began my memoir, I have delved into my memory to recall past family reunions.

When I was a child, we had a family circle. I thought everyone had one. Only later did I realize how rare this was. We met in a rented space somewhere in Manhattan, which was a central location for all the families, who mostly came from Brooklyn and the Bronx. When I see old Neil Simon movies, I recall what it was like when I was a young girl. Woodie Allen grew up not far from my childhood home in Brooklyn. How far we have all come.

At the family circle meetings, the older folks soon dispensed with “business,” the reading of the minutes and so on, and the cards came out. The pinochle games, the gin games began. The teenagers, of whom there were very few, disappeared as soon as they could. They didn’t want to be with the grown-ups. The young kids, of whom there also were few, chased each other up and down the halls, and played hide-and-go-seek. How precious was the time. How innocent we all were.

My grandfather was one of ten children, and most of them belonged to the family circle. Some had passed away earlier and I only knew them through the stories the elders would tell. However, I knew eight of them, and their children, my cousins. My mother was one of the oldest cousins, and the youngest were only three years older than me. I grew up knowing so many aunts and uncles, so many cousins. Nowadays, families live so far apart, that it’s almost impossible to know very many cousins.

This is why I so treasure the time we have together this Thanksgiving and give thanks for the time I can spend with all my family.