The original Thanksgiving was supposed to be a tale of how European immigrants and Native Americans could cooperate and make living better for both parties.  Instead of taking heart of this life lesson, the European immigrants and their descendants attempted to wipe the Native Americans from the map in an atempt at mass genocide. Hooray for our side! (<– Read as sarcasm)

That original feast on the Plymouth Plantation took place 388 years ago … unless you listen to Florida teacher Robyn Gioia, who insists that the first American Thanksgiving took place on September 8, 1565 in St. Augustine.   I wonder how much of a coincidence it is that Gioia happens to teach in the St. Augustine school district.

At any rate, both celebrations were conducted as part of a European tradition that called for a day of thanksgiving for all the bounty of the previous year to take place prior to the Advent season.  Incidentally, there were also similar celebrations in San Elceario near current day El Paso, TX on April 30, 1598 and  in the Virginia colonies two years before Plymouth on Dec. 4, 1619.

But, enough with the history.  Today is a day when we are supposed to reflect on the things and/or people we are thankful for.  I have to admit this holiday has always been a bit of a downer for me.  As a child, we usually had to travel to a different state to eat a dinner that always included a strange cylindrical beet red food everyone called cranberry sauce and I would end up sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag that smelled of moth balls.

Many times, these family gatherings would result in someone bringing up a past discretion or argument and the men would retire to the living room and dispassionately watch football while the ladies would clean up the kitchen and dining room.  I would quietly give thanks that this catastrophe only occurred once a year.

When I was older and married, I had the distinct pleasure of experiencing new Turkey Day traditions from a family I was unfamiliar with.  Oh happy day!   (<– Once again, read as sarcasm)

I went to Kentucky to have dinner with my in-laws.  I woke up Thanksgiving morning to a phone call that informed me my grandfather wasn’t in as good of shape as they thought.  In fact, he was dead.

My ultimate Thanksgiving feast happened in 1991.  My grandfather, one half of the couple who raised me after my parents divorce, had been in the hospital for over a week and on Tuesday afternoon before T-Day, we learned he was getting better and sitting up in bed.  I went to Kentucky to have dinner with my in-laws.  I woke up Thanksgiving morning to a phone call that informed me my grandfather wasn’t in as good of shape as they thought.  In fact, he was dead.

We hopped back into the car and drove north to Indianapolis, stopping off at a Burger King for the non-traditional Whopper, Fries and Coke T-Day dinner.  Woo-hoo!  (<– If you don’t recognize that as sarcasm, there is no help for you)

Robert, McCartney, Dustin, Harrison, Sheri

This year, I am thankful for several things.  I am thankful for my loving and supportive wife, Sheri.  I am thankful for my children – especially since I didn’t have any eight short years ago.  I am thankful we own our own home and the car is paid off.  I am thankful for surviving the removal of two walnut sized tumors from inside my skull back in April of 2001.  I am thankful for my bounty of friends who believe as I do that people are more important than the corporate bottom line.  I am thankful for all the troops who have returned from overseas safe and sound – while saddened about those who did not.  I am thankful we live in a country that allows us to speak our minds – even if they don’t listen to our cries.  And lastly, I am thankful that I have not seen anyone carve the traditional Cranberry tube in many, many years.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 26th, 2009 at 11:18 am and is filed under Living. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.