Thanksgivings of long ago were tinged with snow or sweat, depending on where you grew up. Regardless of the weather conditions, the internal thermometer was very similar: mounting hunger, watering mouths, chairs appropriated from every room to accommodate siblings, grandparents, cousins and new spouses. Protected in the bubble of childhood, we never thought age would overtake us and turn us into our aunt. We were wrong.
We did grow up, go to college, marry, have children. All the things we never believed would transpire became our reality. But the ritual of Thanksgiving remained out of time swirling in a snow globe safely tucked away.
As the years progressed, we needed fewer chairs and place settings. Our grandparents were gone. We made do with a smaller turkey and fewer condiments. Instead of staying awake for the whole football game we slumbered. Still, it was special being with our relatives, now far-flung across the country and physically changed. Our siblings brought their children, who built sand castles out of mashed potatoes and mashed the sweet ones beyond recognition. It also took a little longer to say goodbye as nights shadow fell. We might not see our family for another year or three, sometimes longer.
Then we lost Mom and then Dad. Those were tough Thanksgivings. The slightest sentimental remark dislodged a tear or two. Yet, did we not feel them in the kitchen or the living room, their absence refuted by recollected smiles?
Mutability, not turkey or stuffing, is the true face of Thanksgiving. We come, we go, giving thanks not only for our lives but all the lives weve known, all the lives that have blessed our own.
Americans take one day out of the rest to officially express their gratitude. Jews, however, if they are sufficiently mindful of the main precept of the Torah, thank G-d every moment. If it takes a turkey to help us celebrate what is, remember what was and anticipate tomorrow, so be it. But hopefully we gain from the beauty and the duty of gratitude itself, and Thanksgiving becomes not a reminder of the obligation of gratitude but an opportunity to anticipate and embrace it. Today is the point, and its pointing toward us our wellsprings of thanks-giving. So, next Thursday, fill your stomachs and souls to the brim. Laugh. Make a few Lchaims. Treasure those around you, and all the blessings of nature and freedom surrounding you.
And remember strangers in need. Bake an extra pie and bring it to a homeless shelter. Donate to the JFS Weinberg Food Pantry. Invite a lonely friend to share the meal. Pay attention to that beggar on the thoroughfare; he or she might be grateful just for the hello, before you share a spare dollar. Yes, share your wealth, for it is far more than you realize.
Copyright © 2011 by the Intermountain Jewish News
