amancalledpony's blog post - Hardest blog I have ever written

Usually I blog observations of life, songs I like, or other silly stuff. This blog started out as something about Thanksgiving, then moved into personal therapy, and it end as a commentary on being alone.
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When I was a small child, Thanksgiving was a big day in our little family. My mom was great at decorating and did up the house every season. Thanksgiving was gourds, cornucopia, other seasonal times (some of which would not politically correct these days). Of course the good china was brought out. The day before Mom spent half the day washing and hand drying the china. Then she continued to prepare for the feast. It was a feast too. A big turkey with all the trimmings. More food than three people could eat in a month. But somehow we went through it before the weekend was over. But my dad also made sure I understood the meaning behind this day. How the Indians (word at the time) basically saved the white man’s ass. So every year we made a trek to local mission to deliver food to help the drunks and homeless there then help out where ever we could. My dad reminded me that there for the grace of god goes many of us. And we should remember the downtrodden every day.

This all changed the year I turned 9. Dad died that summer. Thanksgiving was different. I realized that my mom was having real problems. The decorations were not as in years past. She didn’t bring out the china. We didn’t bring anything to the mission. Thanksgiving morning I came out to find mom crying at the dining room table with a half drained bottle of vodka in from of her. She told me how much my dad meant to her, how hard it was for them to be accepted since he was 20 years older, how much I meant to my dad. Dinner was a total disaster. But I learned a lot that year that allowed me to accept the behaviour from my mom in the years to come. Over the years Thanksgiving changed. More food and football. Less caring for others.

Forty eight years have passed and this was the second year in a row I am alone for Thanksgiving. Last year I was numb from the previous four month so it really didn’t bother me. This year is different. To misquote Delbert McClinton¸ I’m eighteen hundred miles from the woman I love. So to avoid Thanksgiving I decided to have my meal today. I dug around in the freezer last Sunday and found a Prime Rib. While waiting for the roast to rest before digging in, I went to check the mail. A man pushing a shopping cart was heading up the hill. I see him often when out on walks and runs. Usually we nod as he hits the garbage containers for cans. Today he was looking tried and cold in the gray overcast light. He nodded my way. I mentioned it looked like he had a slow day collecting cans. He said he was late getting out, this holiday brings him down. I asked if he wanted to share a non-traditional thanksgiving dinner with me today. His face lite up like a thousand watt light blub. So we supped. We talked while we ate then continued the conversation after. I should say he talked and I listened. He poured his heart out about his life. His upbringing, his wife and kids, how he ended up collecting cans and living on the streets. At some point my eyes started to tear up. He got worried and stopped talking. I told him to keep on. I was just thinking of something my dad told me every Thanksgiving. As he was about to head out he asked why I was about to cry. I told him. He hugged me then said in a breaking voice he better get going.
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There is really no way to end this blog. The day wasn’t an epiphany for me. Just a day that reminded me of things past. I hope on this day of food, football and late night shopping with your family and friends, you take some time to remember those who are alone. The aged, the homeless, the military, those working away from home, the ones away from the ones they love. Be thankful for the grace of god it isn’t you. .