On Thursday, for the first time in nine years, I will sit down to a midday Thanksgiving meal with my family.

For seven years, I lived on the Mainland. The past two Turkey Days, holiday shifts at the paper have limited my Thanksgiving to a quick plate, a round of kisses for the aunts, and promises to quickly refrigerate the leftovers.

Thankful and fed in less than an hour.

What I've missed is the feast accompanied by all the local standards.

Turkey, stuffing, katsu, adobo and banana lumpia, for the first plate. Probably some ham, fried noodles, lemon chicken, crab legs, cone sushi and won ton for Round 2. To top it off, Chinese chicken salad, baked salmon, rice, mac salad, and shrimp tempura.

I'm careful not to overeat because I love pumpkin pie — even with candles on top, for my birthday.

My aunts know how to cook and grab takeout, so we get the best of both worlds.

The best part of this gluttonous affair is the time spent with family.

Filipinos love large families — you need only count my cousins to confirm it. Thanksgiving was a chance for sports activities requiring more than five people.

As a kid, I reveled in antagonizing my cousin Tony until he threw me into Uncle Ben's pool. I would devise elaborate schemes to evade him, but I really wanted to get thrown in so that when my mom started yelling, I could point at Tony.

While away on the Mainland, I spent several Thanksgiving weekends in the homes of friends gracious enough to invite me.

There was a party with the Hawai'i club at Purdue during my sophomore year in college. Not exactly a sit-down affair, but local kids ate turkey and rice in West Lafayette, Ind. In restrospect, I don't think that a beer bong after dinner was a good call.

In Des Plaines, Ill., I forced my friend and his family to watch the Warrior football team whup BYU on ESPN. For their four hours of support I rewarded them with my best impersonation of Vili the Warrior.

You bet I lost the shirt.

Memories of holidays away pale in comparison to time with grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles and cousins. I missed that while away, so strike up the violin and hear me out.

When you're away from your family for a long time, you reach a point where you feel like a part that loosely fits. Only when around them again do you realize how much they matter.

So while some other reporter listens to the riveting chatter from the police scanners Thursday, I will be surrounded by my family.

For that, I am thankful.

Reach Peter Boylan at pboylan@honoluluadvertiser.com.