Thanksgiving 2007

This evening, the night before Thanksgiving, my wife and I just finished setting the table for tomorrow. We cracked open a bottle of wine and are watching a show or two on TV before going to bed. We set up the big table for tomorrow's dinner. My wife's parents live in town, and they'll be over tomorrow. It's my turn to have my kids over. My ex-wife and I trade every year, who gets the kids for Thanksgiving, as well as the other holidays. With half the marriages in this country ending in divorce, this isn't such an unusual arrangement. I can smell the bread baking tonight.

I work for a British software company here in the U.S.A. I get the national holidays off. On that list is Thanksgiving. I got most of my Christmas shopping done, so I don't have to leave the house on Friday. Actually my wife took care of most of that this year. She's a keeper. It's time to watch football games and eat turkey. I guess there is a parade by some department store in New York. It's almost like an extra Sunday.

But here, now, I have the chance to ask, what am I thankful for?

Family. Both my parents died several years ago from different types of cancer. I had to grow up a lot quicker than I wanted to. Today I have children, a wife of a couple years, a couple aunts and uncles. I get along well with my parents-in-law. We live in the same smallish town. We see each other in church and have dinner together every few weeks. Dad-in-law and I sometimes walk our dogs together in the local park.

My sisters and their families live in different ends of the country, and I live in the middle. I have an aunt who teaches my kids the Hammond organ every couple weeks. My father's family will have me over for some holidays. We're not as close as I like, but we talk on the phone and send email. Everyone lives so far away. I get the funny email from one uncle every couple months. That's nice.

God. I find solace in knowing that I'm not the most important person in the universe. I don't pretend to have all the answers. My faith gives me a chance to ask the very basic questions, like "who am I?" and "why do good things happen to normal people?". If you're an atheist, that's your problem. I get a lot of satisfaction from reading the stories of Jesus' life. I give prayers of thanksgiving, more than supplication. I read about people who have it a lot worse than I do.

Work. I derive a lot of satisfaction from my job. I'm a computer professional in a vertical market. If I was born in another time, I'd be a mason, or a cooper, or a blacksmith, or something technical, but valuable to society. I was unemployed in the early 1990s and took a job at reduced pay for a while. I'm doing o.k. financially and professionally. I'm hoping that my company will sell more stuff next year, so that my profit-sharing bonus will go up. If not, I'm not complaining. I'll be fine. There were several hundred workers in town who lost their jobs this year when the palette factory closed. Compared to them, I have nothing to complain about.

Where I live. As an American, I have the freedom to do mostly what I want, when I want, as long as I don't hurt anyone else. Winter is coming, and I have a warm house to live in. I have a big, furry dog who is my office mate. I have an SUV that will get me through most snow drifts. Lake Michigan gives the most beautiful sunsets. There's no other place I'd rather be.

My Health. This year I've lost a lot of unnecessary fat. I'm able to sleep easier at night. I'm able to wear clothes I hadn't fit into in years. I'm such a sexy stud. I now work out with free weights. I'm not in pain. I'll probably be around to see my grandchildren grow up. That's better than my parents did.

I'm worried about how this country is going. I see the potential for hyper-inflation, similar to what we saw in the 1970s. We're in a semi-war, with real casualties. We're poised to invade more countries and charge it to the next generation. I'm concerned about how I'm going to retire after trying to provide for two families, and send a couple kids through college. I think about having to pay for bills if I get sick.

I'm also optimistic. I see so much untapped potential around me. We do the best we can. That's all we can do.

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to shove that big bird into the oven. I'm going to have that slice of beer bread with spinach cream spread. Oh, Lord, just give me that one day to say thank you. And next year, it might even be better.