Thanksgiving
Originally written in 1997 and sent out to friends and family in an email. Posted on Facebook November 22, 2009.
I remember as a child learning to draw a turkey; tracing my hand and coloring in my fingers. November always brought autumn leaves, Pilgrims and Indians into the classroom. One afternoon, you would arrive home and find that Mom had decorated the dining room table with the horn of plenty filled with wax fruit and little wax figurine candles. Pilgrims, Indians and turkeys, only two inches high and over the years warped by spending 50 other weeks of the year packed up in a box, but proudly defending that noble horn of plenty. Seems there was always some sort of Thanksgiving lunch at the North Side Elementary School, complete with costumes and storytelling. Stories about the Pilgrims landing on Plymouth Rock and after a year of settlement, celebrating in peace the partnership they had forged with the Indians and the achievement of harvesting the first crop of corn.
Those Pilgrims become Colonists and Revolutionists, Farmers and Industrialists, Statesmen and Soldiers, Bureaucrats and Businessmen, Baby Boomers and Yuppies. And over the years the traditions of Thanksgiving grew. So did mine. Some years we traveled south to North Carolina and feasted on turkey dinners complete with Maria’s, my grandfather’s cook, homemade cornbread and gravy. I learned to eat raw oysters from my Cousin Mary, before they got “scalloped.” Some years we stayed home. Other years we traveled upstate, through the snowy Catskills to Granny and Bomper’s, on the first day of hunting season to Elmira, New York; we’d count the killed deer on car rooftops to shorten the trip. Some years there were children’s tables in the corner or the privilege of sitting next to Pa. There were holiday parades on Friday in Henderson, North Carolina and one or two Macy’s parades in New York City. There were long car, train or plane rides from college to get home, to be with family after a week of exams. Much later, there were early Friday morning departures to get back to Hartford in time to open the store for the biggest retail day of the year with leftovers packed for a lunch break and several meals later. And always, each year at each place setting there seemed to be a chocolate turkey, wrapped in cellophane with a gold ribbon and a sticker marking it from Hildebrandt’s ice cream parlor. More personal tradition included saving those chocolate turkeys endlessly on my bookcase in my bedroom, or later, finding while unpacking, Mom’s chocolate turkey wrapped inside a Thanksgiving paper napkin and carefully hidden in the leftover bag after a record sales day. And over the years, gradually family gatherings evolved and changed to close friends, far from their own loved ones, but eager to celebrate together the annual harvest and holiday season kickoff.
Traditions strike our memories differently at different times. When Dad offered the annual blessing at the dinner table, this would always follow Mom’s teasing about his inability to carve at the table, he would always ask those gathered around to offer their thanks. Some years this posed as a chore, other years a glance and a giggle between cousins, or friends, or my sister Carol, as just plain silly. Traditions though do serve as foundations. This year I have no doubt that he will once again make that request. I’ll be thousands of miles away, however. When I think about the Pilgrims and Indians at that first Thanksgiving and their achievement; the thanks they made, I’ll forget about only having 27 shopping days till Christmas and upcoming New Year resolutions. This year I’ll think outwardly about our achievements as a nation, where the pilgrims and Indians stood and where we today stand in our ability to work at peace with our world partners. I’ll think about our history, learning from our mistakes and hoping not to repeat them; we will make them, hopefully new ones. I’ll think about the amazing advancements we take for granted in our civilization and the technology we use to travel, to communicate, to live with ease. The think tank that makes our life today so different from the life the pilgrims experienced. And I will think about the less fortunate, the outcasts, how we treated the Native Americans and how we treat each other. I will also think inwardly, about my own personal achievement. I have a lot to still learn and a lot to be thankful for, my career and job, my health and home, and my network of family and friends: offering and sharing of themselves continuously. Rest assured, I will find a chocolate turkey, and I will silently say thank you to each of you.
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