Thanksgiving Memories

          

            Going to a chain buffet for one Thanksgiving in St. Louis, our gang of three, Jim, my brother and me, probably tops the list as the worst meal of thanks ever.  Our children were not living in St. Louis or able to come that year, and I think my small oven was broken.  At the buffet, some there—and it was crowded—seemed to find the cramped setting and unlimited amount of food an appealing, mouth watering holiday occasion.  Not so for us.

          At the opposite end would be our best and most meaningful Thanksgiving gathering.  David, our son, had gone far, far away to Ithaca College in New York to start a Master’s degree.  We hadn’t seen him since August, and his experience there had been disappointing.  Coupled with his shyness and living alone, he talked about his monastic existence.  Bill and Bonnie were probably in Indiana, and Bill’s parents in Pennsylvania had invited us all to share the holiday together.  In all, there were ten or eleven of us gathered around a large, antique table laden with great food much of it prepared by Bill and Bonnie.  Jim probably said a blessing as he was frequently asked to do at such things.  After dinner but still sitting around the table, we were asked to write something we were thankful for on little slips of paper.  When read, we were supposed to guess who had written it.  The only answer I remember was David’s: “safe travel,” concise but true.  Bill’s aunt and uncle and their son had come to Pennsylvania from Boston to join us.

           Pleasant and interesting visiting among us accompanied some football watching over the course of our time together.  Poor Bill and Bonnie were too busy with preparations until dinner.  As I observed Bill’s dad and his sister doing some hand washing of dishes and clean-up, there was something sweet about brother and sister sharing this task.  For Jim and me, being welcomed into a Thanksgiving with real gratitude along with the food and football and getting to share it with our children was truly sweet and satisfying.  

          Well before he died, Thanksgiving had become Jim’s favorite holiday.  It can be a meaningful yet relatively simple occasion—no costumes, no gift giving, etc.—plus a feast to enjoy. Maybe that Thanksgiving in Pennsylvania was the year that its top status began.