T

Thanksgiving.  This is my youngest son's favorite holiday.  No, not Christmas, not Easter, not Valentine's Day, not his Birthday.

I asked him “Exactly why is Thanksgiving your favorite day of the year?”

He answered “Because it’s all about family.  It’s all about getting together and all of us contributing to the Feast, and just having a good day enjoying each other’s company.  It’s about gathering up some strays and sharing our good fortune with them.  The commercialism is at a minimum, the only stress is producing the food unruined and reasonably on time.  We all even help with the dishes.”

His youngest daughter (the 2-year-old) agreed, which is amazing because lately she has seemed incapable of agreeing with anything.  (I suspect that she is more focused on the pie aspect of Thanksgiving than anything else.)  She does expect to help with the dishes, though, God help us all every one.

OK, so we’ve got the family and the Feast all together in one place.  But let’s not forget the origins of Thanksgiving:  The Pilgrims were starving and dying, and would have all perished during their first winter in America if the Natives had not taken pity on them and brought them a Feast, plus enough supplies to get them through to harvest.  (Some would say “Badly played on the Native’s part!” Well, yeah - obviously, considering what happened next, but that’s not where we’re going today.)

So Thanksgiving is the day where Americans commemorate a very important moment of charity.  We’re reenacting a significant historical event that still affects us today.  But pared down to its bare leg bones, Thanksgiving was simply an act of kindness – one group of human beings saw a need in a different group of human beings and filled it.

Now at this point I could go off on a big ol’ rant about we have this politically, religiously, economically, health-care divided nation, and then I could point out that we are all the same – good people just trying to get along the best we can.  OK, so I just did that, but that’s not where we’re going today, either.

Where we are going today is to gratefulness, to appreciation, to giving thanks.  Doctors have known forever that the patient who sees and enjoys the beauty in their world and their life is the patient who recovers, often when they weren’t expected to.  So let’s start a revolution.  Instead of one day a year where we give thanks, let’s make every day Thanksgiving.

Quick!  Right now.  Think of 10 things that you’re grateful for. 

I’ve had some practice at this since a shrink made me agree to do this every day twice a day, so I’ll start.

Me.  I am grateful to be me.  Even considering my abundant flaws and foibles, I like me.  I find that getting to know myself is an unending adventure.  I crack myself up, I surprise myself, and I am grateful that I’ve survived long enough to develop into somebody that I like.

My body.  I am strong and healthy.  Even though sometimes I catch sight of myself in the mirror and am disconcerted at the havoc that age and gravity hath wrought, my body still gets me where I want to go.

My children and grandchildren.  I love them and they love me, and what’s more, I like ‘em.  A lot.

Faith.  Unless you worship money, knowing that there is somebody or something that understands what’s going on and cares about us is what’s gotten us all through the past few years.

The Verde Valley.  I marvel that I get to live in a “destination.”  I get to see the Red Rocks and Mingus and the San Francisco Peaks every day.  I run into tourists who paid thousands of dollars and traveled halfway around the world just to absorb a few of our sunsets and breathe our air.  We are blessed to live here.

We are Americans.  No matter who we thought should have gotten elected President, we were able to vote for our choice.  We were able to say what we thought.  We are able to criticize in any venue that we find appropriate.  I’ve seen posts on Facebook that would have gotten their author a 3 AM knock on the door and poof you’re gone in a lot of countries.  Sometimes I agree and sometimes I disagree, but they get to say their thoughts and I get to say mine and I appreciate that fact.

Experience and knowledge.  I was at a home inspection the other day.  My client asked me a question and I knew the answer.  I pondered how it was when I was new and didn’t know any answers.  I’m amazed that anybody worked with me when my only response could be “Um.  I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

My family.  I was born with one sister and one brother, both of whom I love and who are very important to me.  But there’s more - I notice that over the years I’ve accumulated many more brothers and sisters. 

I disagree with the old saw that says “You can’t pick your family!”  I have picked my family, and I treasure them.  I would not have made it if it hadn’t been for this new family who listened to me and supported me and loved me and was there for me.  Thanks, you guys.

The Dearly Departed.  I realized the other day that of all of the hundreds of people that I love and that love me, more of them are dead than are alive.  I thought about my Dad and my Mom, my grandparents, my stillborn daughter, the neighbors who emotionally adopted me and my son after my parents died, all of the friends and cousins and lovers and in-laws and stepparents that I’ve buried. 

I realized that they aren’t dead, not really.  They all contributed to me and to my sons and grandchildren and to countless generations to come.  As long as somebody that they influenced is interacting with somebody else, they’re still making a difference.

The other day my grandson was upset about a bully at school.  (This bully, from JackJack’s telling anyway, actually does sound like a vile child.)  I told him “My Grandpa used to say that you can tell a lot about somebody by their enemies.  That this horrible kid picks on you means that you’re a pretty special guy.”  This was a big comfort to JackJack. 

See?  Grandpa’s not gone, and the same will be true of me and you after we die and somebody remembers something that we said or did.

Look at what happens at Thanksgiving.  The dead are all over it.  I’m going to make my Stepfather’s Bagatelle, my Mom’s pumpkin pie, my Grandma’s pecan pie, my Grandpa’s dirty mashed potatoes, my Dad’s mushroom gravy, and my bread and stuffing.  My son is going to cook the turkey using his Grandmother in Arkansas’ secret sage butter recipe as best I can remember it. 

Number 10 – all of the rest.  There’s a roof over my head, electricity in the walls, heat and a bed and food to eat.  There are books and friends.  There’s a dog to take me for my walk and insanely gorgeous country to walk me in.  I’m not hungry, I’m not homeless, I’m not in prison, I’m not sick.  I can see, I can hear, I can talk, I can read, I can go anywhere I want and talk to whomever I want.  I have a job.  I have a brain that usually works pretty well.  I am blessed.

Now it’s your turn.

Happy Thanksgiving!