I've only spent two Thanksgivings in my life away from my (blood-related) family. Some people dread going home for the holidays, but that's only because their family is not as awesome as mine. My first time away was in 2004 at the BYU London Centre. We played football in Hyde Park, I got tackled by a 300-pound guy, we had an amazing feast cooked for us, and then we dragged our mattresses into the classroom and snuggled in our pajamas while watching Shrek 2.
The second was today. We went to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. We bought delicious hot chocolate from some kids on the steps of a brownstone for $1. We took a nap. We got dressed up and went to an excellent Thanksgiving dinner at a nice restaurant on the Upper East Side. We ate home-made pie and lounged around watching Home Alone and listening to Christmas music and laughing a lot.
I'm thankful that when I can't be with my biological family, my other family is there to take care of me. Though we meant to go around the table and each say what we're thankful for, we kept getting distracted and never actually got around to it. But that's what I would have said.