I have never been a Thanksgiving guy. I mean it was never a biggie to me. I never looked forward to it. I like most others, loved the meal at which we always gave thanks for something. When we were kids, we found it easier then our parents probably did. But they lived, loved, and provided given what they had.
Over the years, once I married a woman that thought Thanksgiving dinner for two required preparing a turkey, two stuffings, giblet gravy, two vegetables, and cranberry sauce, I always saw it coming, but was unable to either mentally, or psychologically stem the tide. It was what she was brought up with and she was mentally chosen to carry on the tradition. Today I am so glad she did because I miss it .
Almost seven years ago she went on to prepare her dinners in Heaven. Rest assured, they are eating well up there. Me, I am kind or vacillating between fixing a dinner that is somewhere between a dramatically scaled down meal and a TV dinner. Don’t get me wrong. A small turkey breast in my air fryer, accompanied by some Stove Top stuffing, McCormick’s gravy, some sweet potato, and canned cranberry sauce is not that bad. So much better then a lot of people get to enjoy. The major ingredient I can’t replace however, is her. One cup of love.
Although I have had invitations in the past, I have always chosen not to accept. I appreciated their offer, but was still feeling they were just being kind. They knew I was going to be alone and made an offer. I wasn’t, unfortunately, smart enough to grasp the sincerity of their invitations. I saw these people most days throughout the year. We chatted, laughed, compared notes, and gossiped. We always inquired into each others health. Given my age and living alone, they watched out for me. They have inquired about me as I have done of them. We have been mutually concerned about each other. They are more then neighbors. They are friends, almost family. So why not break bread with them.
This year, a neighbor across the street was the first to ask if I would join their family for dinner. I surprised myself by accepting. Best move I have ever made. They are in their sixties with multiple adult children, all married, providing a collective bounty of fifteen grandchildren and two more still in the oven. My wife and I never had children and as such I think we missed a lot. I was met by kids from two to twenty years old and a precious down syndrome little boy who chose to smile at me all the time I was there.
For the first time in a few years I did not have to think of why I was thankful. I had been gifted with multiple reasons. The easy way this large family and invited friends moved effortlessly surrounded by the laughter and innocence of children while welcoming those of us that were not family. I had been privileged to experience life and love displayed by children, teens, and parents. I think I gained a new perspective of the day, perhaps for the first time in a lifetime.
I hope your Thanksgiving was as great as mine. I think when you open your heart, you open your eyes and your life.
oldmainer 