Do you have an attitude of gratitude? This is the time of year when gratitude is emphasized – or, at least, it is supposed to be. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, even from a young age. It was one of those rare times when our whole family got together to basically hang out together and have a good meal. All the other times we congregated as a family: funerals, weddings, birthdays, Christmas, Easter, even the 4th of July – there was more of a distraction, more to do than just be together and eventually break some bread. I think this time of year forces families to be in closer quarters as well – growing up in the Northeast, rarely were we instructed to “go play outside” because of the cold, dreary weather. For this reason, I usually overheard more converstions and got to know more about my relatives on Thanksgiving than any other holiday.
I am glad that, even in our materialistic, money oriented society, marketers have not been able to capitilize too much on Thanksgiving. Obviously, there is the food – and you can spend as much at stores as they are willing to charge for your banquet, but besides that, not much has changed in what really needs to be bought for Thanksgiving. I think that was another reason I liked it so much as a kid – the grown ups never seemed quite as stressed about “the gifts.” Don’t get me wrong – I love getting and receiving gifts, but in the end the true gifts can never really be bought. When I look back at old photos, I’m usually thinking more about the feeling of the moment, the warmth and comfort of being young in those days, my uncle pulling quarters from our ears – I think more about those things than the stuff we got.
I’ve also noticed that the parents look more relaxed in old photos of Thanksgivings. I’m sure part of the reason was that us kids were easier to handle on Thanksgiving because we were not on “high alert” – sleep deprived and revved up about the gifts, or the cake, or the party. We were just there for some conversation, some playing with our cousins, and lots of turkey at the “Kid’s Table.” In our case, this was an old card table that invariably fell over every year because it was never meant to hold that many plates and that much food. I began to resent the Kid’s Table as I got older. The only rite of passage ritual that existed in my famiy was when a child moved up to the “Adult Table,” and the only way that happendwas if there was a death or divorce in the family. I still carry some guilt about the inner joy I experienced when it became clear that my aunt and uncle would not be married for another year. My first thought was of the matching plates, the good silverware, the fancy napkins, and the glass cups I had been deprived of for so long at the Kid’s Table, and how I would be living it up in style when Thanksgiving rolled around. My time had come. I would be moving up. Actually, I didn’t feel that guilty about my aunt and uncle, because, as my grandmother had been saying for years “That bum never deserved her anyway!” As it turned out, I did not make it to the Adult Table that year. I was usurped by an older cousin that came back from college for Thanksgiving. I hadn’t seen that coming – I thought when you went to college that was it – no coming back. Anyway, the good news was that the Kid’s Table did not tip over that year – turns out it had been my college aged cousin’s long legs knocking into the table that contributed to the collapse in previous years.
I have found through the years that I have very simple tastes: a good hot dog, a beautiful sun set, working outside in the yard with my wife and a John Denver C.D. playing while the kids play – these things are extremely fulfilling to me. And I’m not making this up! One of my favorite artists is Norman Rockwell. I love the scenes and expressions and emotions he creates in his work. For these reasons, I have always loved his Thanksgiving picture. If you look at the faces in his pictures, you see it all: simple, humble, joyful, grateful. It depicts for me the Thanksgiving I most want – one of family engaged in conversation and contentment – happiness and love. Gratitude.
This blog may seem out of place. Over the last few weeks I have been sharing “dumping really,” about the trials and pain and tough decisions my family is making right now. All of that is still here. The wolf has knocked at the door, and he is currently curled up on the stoop – waiting. Why am I talking about gratitude, and materialism, and the Thanksgivings of my youth, and of all things, Norman Rockwell paintings today? Good question. And the answer is – I’m not sure. I have learned since writing this blog that often, if not most times, the subject I sit down to write about is not the subject that gets written. I like to think that many times the words are not really my own, but that there is some type of spiritual direction. I hope there is, anyway. If not, the inspirations and stream of conciousness, and “zone” that I am starting to reach is a really complicated mental disorder. Either way, it seems to be helpful to me, and at least a few other people – so I’ll keep doing it. But back to the topic. As my family is preparing for this year’s Thanksgiving, new things seem important and old things not so much. I don’t really care what kind of turkey we get. I don’t care if it is too dry or too moist. I don’t care if we have mashed potatoes, or stuffing, or cranberry sauce, or any of the traditional foods at our table. As a matter of fact, throwing out a huge plate of hot dogs with a giant bowl of french fries next to them, and maybe another large bowl of canned corn “can’t forget the vegetables” sounds great to me. For dessert, let’s just buy a few boxes of ice cream and give everyone a spoon – how’s that sound? I don’t care. And just for the record – my wife cares even less. November has been a blur, a snap of the fingers, a blink of the eye for us. Life has gone into fast forward. She wants to press the pause button on Thanksgiving. She wants simplicity and people we love here, around us. And she cares little about if the house is ready to be featured in “Good Housekeeping” when they get here. Normally she would, but right not she doesn’t care.
Let me insert a brief word here to the hosts and hostesses “mostly the hostesses”. If you just had a loud gutteral reaction to my menu suggestions for this year, or if your mind immediately said: that is absolutely insane, or impractical, or if you can’t imagine the reactions of your guests, I need you to hear this: your house has been chosen as the one to host because of the love, and kindness, and overall comfortable feeling that comes from it. It is not just because everyone else is too lazy to do it, and it is not about the food. People want to be around you, and your family, in your house because you have created a wonderful “home”, and all who go there feel its warm embrace. If you really, really, need to serve the dish that everyone raves over even though it takes 12 hours to prepare it and it costs $12.00 a serving, knock yourselves out. But that will never be the highlight – the highlight will be the moments spent together. And if you are too busy doing everything, or if you are exhausted or sick or frustrated and angry because you’ve been the only one up for days preparing – you’re going to miss the best parts – as a matter of fact, you may keep the best parts from happening. If you get really honest, who is setting these expectations? It’s probably – no definitely – you. Break out the hot dogs. And one last challenge to you hosts and hostesses – start asking EVERYONE to bring a dish. There is no logical reason why you should be doing all the cooking – this year, when they ask, tell them yes, and be specific about what they can bring. Being together is the real goal here – or at least it should be.
And that is what my wife and I feel more this year than we have in the past – how important being together really is. That is what we care about. We care about the love, and joy, and memories we are creating for our children, and for their children. I can’t wait to have our house filled with guests this year. And I don’t care if the kids are too loud, or if they spill their milk, or if we have to tell them a thousand times that “yes, they really have to have some corn with their hot dog – maybe just a spoonful.” I don’t care if certain people tell the same stories they have told a million times, or if they take too long in the shower, or if they make judgemental or inconsiderate comments about the hot dogs and french fries that make up our lives. I can’t change them, and if I could, why would I? That is really not what I was put here for. In the words of that great philosopher Bill Murray in the timeless movie “Meatballs”: IT JUST DOESN’T MATTER. And you know what? He’s right. All the stuff on the surface, all the tiny, insignificant grudges and grumbles we have and we hold on to because of moods and words and he said she said conversations that often dominate our hours, our days , our lives on this planet – not to mention the stuff – all the material stuff that can rust, and rot, and be bought and sold really just doesn’t matter. What matters is your attitude of gratitude for what you have – the priceless relationships, and love, and funny, awkward movements of our lives and those around us all moving so fast , moving towards, towards, well, we don’t really know towards where in the end, but we do know that now is a good time to celebrate, rejoice, and dance – right here right now – period.
That’s it – I’m done for now. I truly hope that I remember my own words through this Thanksgiving. I hope that I maintain a happy, grateful attitude that flows through me and out of me and into all around me. The troubles that my family is facing now will get better, they will get treated, they are temporary – everything is. And in that temporary state that defines our lives, we find the greatest reason to be grateful for all we have. I wish you all a blessed and joyful Thanksgiving.
True now more than ever.