Happy Saturday and Happy Thanksgiving. It’s not often we think about Thanksgiving Day 90 days ahead. In fact, we probably never do, unless we’re going on a trip or hosting people who are. Nevertheless, we come to know the true meaning of Thanksgiving Day when we learn to celebrate it everyday.
Chick-fil-A has a gutsy, longstanding policy to remain closed on Sundays, resisting the temptation to increase corporate earnings. Should midlife adults carry a policy of daily, moment-to-moment thanksgiving? Doing so would require us to resist many temptations for immediate gratification.
The World is so blessed to have people like Guest Blogger, Lorie Sheffer, to write about things that matter. We can all use frequent reminders. Here’s Lorie’s reminder for us:
Who cares if the gravy is slightly lumpy or the pumpkin pie cracks in the center? It’s been a tough year. We suffered through the loss of dear friends and layoffs from jobs. The coup de grace was the sudden, unexpected illness of my father. On June 11, I found him barely able to stand, gasping for breath, the color of a pigeon. My first thought was, “Dad’s dying.” Once in the emergency room, it was soon discovered that he was going into septic shock; his kidneys and other organ systems were in the process of shutting down. My initial thought had been correct; Dad was dying.
One hundred and sixty days later, Thursday November 18, Dad came home. It took 5 surgeries, a month in ICU – unconscious and on a ventilator-, two kidney dialysis treatments, three months with an NG tube feeding him, two weeks in a rehabilitation hospital and over a month in a nursing home/rehabilitation facility. He doesn’t remember his 78th birthday in July, when he was still experiencing ICU delirium. Thankfully, he is now mentally sharp and his prognosis is good. He is getting stronger every day.
My husband and I usually host a rather eclectic Thanksgiving at our home. We’re never sure who will show up, so we just cook tons of food, including both a roasted turkey and one that is ceremoniously deep-fried in the front yard. Anyone who wants to stop in and share the feast is welcome. This year, even though Dad could make the trip across town, I told my mother that we would make it easy for him. I will cook and serve the meal at their house. Mom worried that she has not had time to clean behind the furniture. I assured her “The Moving of the Sofa to Check for Dust Bunnies” is not a Thanksgiving tradition. We will still have our big crazy party at my house on Saturday, but Thursday will be for Dad. I can think of nothing in this world more appropriate than having him sit at the table, surrounded by his extremely thankful family. As my son recently said, “All Pop really wants in life is to have all of his family in a room at the same time.” All he wants in LIFE. What a special and meaningful Thanksgiving. I wish peace to those who were not as fortunate as we are, and hope to those who are still making the journey.