Thanksgiving

I jumped from bed this morning. Laughter and Josh's voice above Amanda's woke me. Mom is in the kitchen already. Kneading dough, her knuckles covered in flour. She looks up with a smile as I stand in the door. Dad is reading out on the back patio. Yesterday he stood and watched every time a plane flew overhead, ducking and diving through the clouds. Today there are no planes, so he sits and reads his Bible. THe flag out front is blowing in the wind, dancing leaves have crowned the brown grass.

There is something today, is it in the air? Or the scones already rising in the oven? Is it that I can still smell the remnants of candy we made last night, or the pie that has been cooling for hours on the counter by the mixer? Is it that Josh is home today, and laughing? There is something, though I can say say for sure what it is.

I think it is simply the day. Thanksgiving, I whisper it as I fold the sheets down and pull the comforter up on the bed. Mm. It tastes good in my mouth, rolling on my tongue, sliding over my lips as it escapes and permeates the room. Thanksgiving.

Amanda makes a face as she pulls the gibblet from the turkey and hurls it into a nearby trash can. We laugh as she frantically washes her hands. My hair actually looks nice today, now there is something to be thankful for. Mom chuckles and rubs my back. Your hair always looks nice, she says, without opening her mouth. Josh is playing football on the playstation 2. Dad complains, he wanted to see a certain team, and they are playing right now. But Josh is wearing the Burger King crown we brought as a joke; and according to the rules written on the inside, his reign extends ten feet in all directions, that includes the tv. Dad shakes his head, laughs, and walks down the hall.

Will and Katie are here from next door. She and Amanda leave moments later with the sweet potato suffle, Amanda needs their oven. Will and Dad are laughing. Josh is changing the tv back to the football game. Mom is smelling the air. She closes her eyes, smiles contently and settles down on the couch with a book she has been reading for months.

The sun is setting outside as the turkey is hoisted from the oven, and the sweet potatoes rushed back home. We are sitting at the table. White linen cloth, creamy placemats, beautiful place settings, words can not describe the joy we all have. Friends and family gather round the table. Someone grabs my hand, I take the one next to me. Who it is, I don't recall, but it does not matter as we bow our heads. This is one of the few times I do not feel awkward praying. Josh, from the head of the table, in his new home, says a few words, then Amen and our eyes dart back to the food.

Laughter as plates are passed. Josh is leaning over, trying to understand how to carve a turkey. The marshmellows are melted on the sweet potatoes. Only a spoonful makes it to my plate. Until a moment later when I taste them. And this year I like them, I fumble for more before they are passed on. A slice of turkey slips onto my plate, gravy splashes down, making rivers through all of the plate. Cranberry sauce barely escapes the brownish liquid. A fork is picked up, I can hear a knife as it slices the meat, scraping against the ceramic plate beneath.

Amanda asks for everyone to wait before eating. The last of the dishes goes round. We sit back, waiting. What can she want? To explain that feeling I have of today? What is it? The air? THe smells? Whatever it may be I am enjoying the day.

She smiles sweetly, just as she always does. Then asks for everyone to say something for which they are thankful. She says she will start. With a loving smile, she looks at Josh and says she is thankful for him, and his family, and great friends. We all laugh, because there could be nothing more obvious. Mom is next, she thinks a moment, her eyes concentrating behind the bifocal eye glasses. Then, for having such an amazing daughter in law, who, though she is not the one we expected, is better than anything we could have dreamed for. Dad laughs, he does not want to follow one so nicely done. I guess, just that we had the chance to come down and see you all. And that for once, I get to stay at home, while Josh goes to work. There is a hearty laugh that follows him. Josh volunteers to go next, with a great smile he says he can think of one thing in particular, Amanda, but he should also add on family and friends, and being able to accomplish dreams. Katie and Will both do the same, each other, and friends. And then there is me.

The lights are dim, Amanda lit candles on the table. They flicker and shine brightly. The turkey is steaming, beautiful, the sweet potatoes are wafting up to me. Mom's bifocals are reflecting the candles. I can see that Josh and Amanda are holding hands beneath the table. Will and Katie are smiling politely. Dad coughs, and then sniffs, as he always does in a long silence.

They are waiting. For me. What am I thanful for?

I am thankful for being here. I am thankful that I have friends back home. I am glad to have a driver's license, a job. I am thankful to have a home when others don't. Good health, clothes, family, a nice school, and the opportunity for higher education. I am thankful for my voice, for concert choir, for music, for something to sing about. I am thankful to God, and for Jesus. Spring, and rain, winter, and snow. Christmas and carols. Happiness, sweet love. I am thankful for so very much, and they want only one sentence. I could go on for hours, become a great orator, listing only the things I hold most dear. There is not one thing that tops my list. I have no idea what to say. But they are waiting, and I must say something before the sweet potatoes are cold and gross to eat.

Most of all? What is it most of all?

My mouth opens, a different voice speaks. I am thankful for all of you, I'm so glad Josh found Amanda and that she isn't Emily. I'm so glad to have you for parents, mom because you are so perfect, and dad, because, well, just because. And I'm glad to have met Will and Katie, and I'm glad Josh and Amanda have friends like you.

But most of all, I am thankful, right now, for food. Please, can we eat? Amanda laughs and says yes. Yes, we may.

The night goes on, monte carlo and hearts. Rummicube and fooseball, a movie and knitting. Gosh, I am so old fashioned. But no one minds, Amanda reassures me, and Josh nods, your husband will appreciate it. My husband. That, I suppose is one other person I am thankful for. Though, not currently known to me. I pray for him, ask God to protect him. I am excited to meet him, and hope I won't hate him at first, as Megan did Jon. I love him already, is that strange to say? I write him letters sometimes, on Valentine's Day. I know that we will one day meet and enjoy each other. I am excited for that. I will one day not feel that I am alone, that I am running the race by myself. I will have a partner with me, someone encouraging me, and I him, as we fight down this road toward the golden city.

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful, for you. Not quite most of all, because I do not know you, nor fully appreciate you as of yet, but I will. I promise, I will.

The pie is served, pumpkin and pecan. A dollop of whipped cream, real whipped cream, sits astride my orange brown pumpkin pie slice. I taste it and sigh. Sweet contentness. People are lauhging again. I smile and take another bite. People are smiling, happy today, away from the stress of yesterday, and the decay of tomorrow.

And the pie is delicious.