Giving Thanks

My childhood Thanksgivings were full of anticipation, excitement, and family. I grew up in Farwell, Texas, a small town on the New Mexico border. My childhood home was less than two blocks from my that of my paternal grandparents, and the town was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins.

The anticipatory fever for Thanksgiving would start a week or two before the actual holiday. It was catalyzed by my father, who would begin talking about the Macy's parade, turkey, and my grandmother's unbelievable cornbread dressing. He would ask, "Are you ready for some dressing?" or say, "I think we need to see some of those giant balloons. Did you know that it takes 20 people to hold one down?" He was clearly looking forward to the holiday, and especially to seeing it through the eyes of his kids.

But it wasn't only talk that excited me. My grandparents were known as Bonnie and Pappy, and on my near daily bicycle trips to their house, I would encounter the physical preparations that let me know that the holiday was approaching. After making me a Dr. Pepper float, Bonnie would tell me what she was making, or show me the early components that would become our Thanksgiving feast. The excitement would grow as I saw cornbread drying to become the base for the dressing, or her homemade pie crusts, full of flaky goodness. And even though she had major amounts of cooking to do in the days ahead, Bonnie would find time to make a pan of gingerbread with me, which she, Pappy, and I would eat warm from the oven with pats of sweet butter.

I would awaken with excitement Thanksgiving morning, charge into the family den, and turn on the television. We would watch the long anticipated Thanksgiving day parade, and my father would exclaim about the difficulty of wrangling the balloons with each one that made its ways down the route. I loved it, but was always a little worried about the people in the parade being cold.

The actual meal was always at Bonnie and Pappy's house, and was always at noon. My mom, dad, sister Deana, and I would head down the block (driving in the car!), where we would meet up with my Uncle Elmer, Aunt Peggy, and cousins Deb, Greg, Brett, Kevin and Amy. Bonnie would be cooking away and expressing a low level of anxiety, which was totally unnecessary given her kitchen skills. Pappy would tell stories, play games, and joke with all of us kids.

Finally, the moment would arrive - it was time to eat. The family filled up three tables, one big one for adults, and two smaller ones for the kids. However, there was always an argument among the adults about who could go and sit at a kid's table. They weren't outposts, they were where the real fun was. We would eat and eat, devouring platefuls of Bonnie's succulent turkey, savory dressing, sweet candied yams, and green beans that were saved from being a boring vegetable by a little bit of bacon. After we thought we couldn't eat anymore, it was time for pie: pumpkin, lemon meringue, and chocolate were always among the choices. After lunch, we would help clean up and then head for home, where the agenda was napping and watching football. We would all meet up again at Bonnie and Pappy's around 6pm for a second meal of leftovers.

This year I lost my dad, which makes these memories especially poignant. I realize just how lucky I am, and how special my childhood was. I had parents who found delight in recognizing and amplifying the things that delighted their kids, and grandparents who found loving and spoiling their grandchildren to be a higher calling. I had caring aunts and uncles, and cousins who were ready pals and playmates. Today I am lucky to have my loving partner David (and his marvelous family), my sister Deana, my wonderful nieces (Lacy, Anna, and Maddie) and nephews (Don, Will, and Edwin), and a remarkable collection of relatives and friends. They all continue to fill my life with light and love.

I grew up knowing that I was loved by and important to many people, and that has made all of the difference. On this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for this legacy, and I hope to express my gratitude by reflecting the same loving attitude into the lives of my own family and friends.

Happy Thanksgiving.