I managed to talk a certain ten year old to break away from her computer game of Obama saving the world from Space Aliens in order to take a walk with me.
Talk. Talk. Talk. Chatter. Chatter. Chatter. Ten year olds talk a lot.
Thanksgiving 2010. The free range, all natural turkey is in the oven behind me. The stuffing is in the bird. The pumpkin pie is made. The cranberry sauce is done. The first load of dishes are washed. And we are a couple hours away from sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner. The aroma makes my stomach growl.
I think of all those Thanksgivings that have gone before. Two of them have been spent at death beds. Others have been spent in various places: Calistoga, Las Vegas, Reno, Grand Junction, Rushford, Newburg, Truckee, Minneapolis, Rochester, Duluth, Winona, Mesa and other places that escape my memory (and probably should remain forgotten). Some of these Thanksgivings have been spent working in hospitals.
The world seems meaner now than in years past. It is harder to summon optimism that things are going to be okay. Beyond family and tribe, conflict and polarization is winning the day. "Good will to all" stops at most people's front doors. And despite the cold temperatures outside, the glaciers keep melting. Oh well, the feast will still be eaten with gusto. Leftovers will still taste good tomorrow and the next day.
Thanksgiving. Giving Thanks. Two words that, in these meanest of days, don't have the impact that they used to.
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