It’s the season.
The riotous preparations and rush of homecomings — the 19-pound turkey, the general happy mayhem — all will be taking center stage in our lives, and probably yours. And we know that we’re among the lucky ones.
Our family will gather together at our oldest daughter’s house to ask the Lord’s blessing as one. Seven noisy grandchildren will be at the table. That always adds to the chaos — and the enormous joy.
That old beast of burden, Jill’s antique dining room table, will be stretched to the limit. The oak leaves, some warped now, will be set into place in a battle with gravity and space. The family barely fits around that table these days. And that’s fine. We’d so much rather expand than contract.
We’ve had some heartaches — that’s part of being a family. We miss those whose absence at the table is a palpable presence. But again, loss is part of the dance of the generations.
We’ve been together through wars in distant places, through anxiety about a country that too often seems in turmoil, through the terrible times … and the wonderful ones.
Like people in Kansas and California, Kentucky and Idaho, people we had never met or known across this great nation, we will pray for a better future for this ragged old Planet Earth.
We’re not a cockeyed optimist kind of family. We don’t always see the glass half-full. But something shifts at Thanksgiving that turns us into dreamers, hopers, copers.
This year at our Thanksgiving table, we’ll be thinking of all that as we look around at the faces we know so well, and dig into dishes that have taken on a life of their own as family members. If anyone dares to change the sweet potato with marshmallows dish, there will be an outcry. If the stuffing doesn’t have the requisite chestnuts, there will be mutiny.
This holiday, more than most, fortifies us, nourishes us beyond the calories, and puts into perspective all that is contained in that single word “Thanksgiving.”
We always spend some time reminiscing about holidays past, getting misty, nostalgic and overly sentimental.
But as desperately as we try to cling to the past, it slips away. Things never really stay the same.
The old family home where we gathered for 28 years is no longer the family home. The “new” one — 12 years and counting — still hasn’t earned the the same beloved familiarity.
Since last Thanksgiving, one daughter has sent her oldest son off to college. It’s a brave leap for everyone. Another has gotten a well-deserved promotion. Jubilation. And middle daughter Amy has brought a puppy named “Rosie” into our world. She’s the new family superstar.
Yes, there have been joys for us, and disappointments and setbacks great and small in the year that stretched between Thanksgiving 2013 and Thanksgiving 2014. There have been moments of pain and loss. And plenty of reasons for a swell of gratitude.
The images rush:
We went to a family camp in the woods again last summer and rediscovered the pleasures of the primitive. We can’t wait to go back.
I have a husband who’s been by my side for more than 50 years. It’s a glorious gift for which I give profound thanks.
I have work that gives my life meaning, good health, friends who care enough to forgive me when I lose my way, or lose touch, or just lose it.
There are books and music that enrich my life. I live in a country that may sometimes disappoint me, but is where I need and want to be.
We’re about to celebrate the quintessential American holiday in the only way we know — as a flawed, noisy but loving family. How marvelous is that? ••
