Even For A Turkey Like Me

Thanksgiving is just one day away, but because of some family scheduling issues our brood will be celebrating the holiday on Wednesday this year. There will be the expected Norman Rockwell moments. For example, my father-in-law carving the turkey while sheilded in a 60s style embroidered and ruffled apron courtesy of Memo, the eightysomething matriarch of the family. After lunch the youngsters will play football in the yard, while the oldsters watch football on TV. Some folks will sit and talk for hours, and others will nod off in assorted chairs and couches succumbing to the effects of L-tryptophan-laced turkey. As in most larger families there is a hierarchy or pecking order to the table where you sit for the holiday meal. The larger table in the dining room is for the senior women. The table in the breakfast nook is primarily for the senior men. Card tables are spread throughout the living room and den for the various couples with kids of their own and the 'tween teens. 'Tween teens are those in that Twilight Zone who aren't quite grown up, but are too cool sit with the kids. The bar with its high stools at the kitchen are for any stragglers or Johnny-come-latelies who don't fit the profile for one of the aforementioned seating assignments. The grandchildren and other younger guests dine alfresco on the patio and come inside only when refilling their plates. Sometimes I think that they are the smart ones. For us there are two constant traditions at Thanksgiving. The first is holding hands in a giant ring around the family room while my father-in-law blesses the meal then adds a special prayer for my Army chaplain brother-in-law and his family based at West Point, New York. That in itself is much to be thankful for given the military alternatives today. The second tradition is the opportunity to speak out and say what each of us is truly thankful for. Though I rarely contribute to this verbal ritual, topping my list is a wife who surprisingly continues to put up with me and situations around her that would have a lesser woman in a straight-jacket and on meds. I have good kids, more than five folks I can call friend, a real job with benefits and writing assignments on the side, the Krystal and of course . . . my pickup truck Ruby. Life is good and there is much to be thankful for this year. Even for a turkey like me.