Thanksgiving Dinner

From as far back as I can remember, I have always enjoyed Thanksgiving. But it wasn’t until I got a little older, when I started thinking beyond the goodies on my plate and more about the world in which we live, that I began to question the holiday – not in its true form and meaning, but what we had turned it into.

The day was intended to be the day when we count our blessings: the love of family and friends, and the bounty of food and shelter. I looked around and saw people stuffing their faces like they had never seen food before (even to the point of getting sick) and then ignoring family conversation for the sake of football or shopping. This disturbed me.

I spoke up.  I suggested that perhaps Thanksgiving should be a day of fasting and reflection. I was almost kicked out of the family – you should have seen the looks I got. I soon realized that this was never going to happen. But guess what? In a backhanded sort of way, my wish did come to fruition this year.

I became ill a few days before Thanksgiving and spent most of my time in bed. When the day itself arrived, I still wasn’t sure whether or not I would be able to attend our family gathering, this year to be held at our house. I still wasn’t sure if I could make it out of bed.

My first reaction was negative. But then I realized that the worst that could happen was that I would miss seeing my family. Nothing else mattered. That was when a great peace came over me. That was when I realized that my heart agreed with my thoughts: the food did not matter, nothing material mattered; and that is when I felt great joy.

I was still sick, but I managed to get dressed and attend the feast, passing up most of the food as it was passed to me. I did manage to eat a few “bland” items: some turkey, mashed potatoes, and a roll.  That was about it.

But as the blessing was being said, I took a moment to look around at everyone. It was like the table disappeared and all I could see was the bright lights which shone from everyone’s heart.  I thanked God for my blessings, abundant and overflowing – for each morsel of food I put in my mouth and for every day I am allowed to walk upon this earth.

It was the best Thanksgiving ever – it was pure thanks, pure love.

All my love and blessings to each and everyone of you.

About Joe

Freelance designer and writer whose goal is to help others by writing about my experiences with fear and anxiety (agoraphobia), health struggles (cancer) and my wonderfully-happy life as a husband and stay-at-home dad. I want to empower everyone to have a happy life.

3 responses »

  1. Maggie/Tumbleweed says:

    Joe, love your insights. You do have to be careful what you wish for….it often comes back to you but not quite in the form you envisioned. My Thanksgiving was a quiet one but very special. My niece, Mary Rose, had an outlet installed on the outside of her home in Port Charlotte Florida so that I would be able to park in her yard instead of in an RV park. As a result, we had a great Thanksgiving dinner…..with family which neither one of us would have had without her intervention and ingenuity. She and I were joined by the brother of her deceased husband. We have a huge family in Ohio where the homes bulge with people on the holidays. Mary and I usually celebrate alone or with a few friends that happen to be close by. This made a special sharing time for each of us……While we’re talking of Thanksgiving….I’m so glad and grateful that you and your blog have become a part of my wandering (and wondering) life.

  2. Colleen says:

    Joe, Hope you’re feeling better — but glad you found the joy and peace in the adversity. My whole life has become about that.

  3. Jim says:

    Inspiring, Joe…Thanks for sharing a personal part of your life with us through your blog. We are all the better for it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s