By Neal Lemery
I’m sentimental about Thanksgiving, the first big holiday of wintertime, when the expectations and the preparations for the holiday are not on steroids. It is a time for gathering with friends and family, with no expectations for frenzy and rampant consumerism. Just a good meal, good company and enjoyable conversations. Abundant food and dessert, and love are expected.
Our family has some long-standing traditions. My mom always set the table with an extra setting, and moved an extra chair to the dining room table. My young curiosity would ask “why” to which my mom always replied, “You never know.” And, almost every year, that chair would be filled by a sudden guest in need of a place to belong to for the holiday. They added a lot to the spirit of the day, and their smile at being included as part of the family gathering always raised our spirits and added more love and kindness to the day.
We get out some of the special dishes and my uncle’s candlesticks. The silver and pearl sugar spoon that my great great grandmother stashed on her wagon on the Oregon Trail is a must. The ordeals of our ancestors always are a topic of some reflection and conversation. And, I always sense the spriritual presence of those family members and friends who have passed on, choosing to remember their smiles and laughter around the table.
We also speak of our gratitudes. As we sit down at the table and begin to pass the food around, we each take a turn on saying what we are grateful for over the past year. It is a healthy ritual, as people often share some experience that the rest of us were unaware of. Figuring out what I need to contribute, as my gratitude, often humbles me, as I don’t often “count my blessings” or take time to pause and reflect on what is really important in our lives.
It warms my heart to find the words and the experiences for which I am grateful.
One year, the brother of our foster son filled the “empty chair”. We had gotten an unexpected call Thanksgiving morning, and learned he had no place to go for the holiday. He was warmly welcomed, and his smile brightened the room. When it came his turn to share his gratitudes, he spoke from his heart, and began to cry. Well, we all did. He was the spirit of Thanksgiving and kindness that year, his remarks reminding all of us of the “reason for the season” and what family is all about.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Books: NEW book – Recharging Ourselves, Building Community: Rural Voices for Hope and Change; Finding My Muse on Main Street, Homegrown Tomatoes, and Mentoring Boys to Men
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