My Thanksgiving Flower, by Margaret (Peggy) Knorr

Today my husband brought me in a single flower from the profusely blooming camellia bush in our garden. Let me explain why that to me was such a momentous experience.

Joe, at almost 95, is in the netherworld of dementia. He pretty much lives wrapped up in himself and his own immediate needs and affairs, most of which are off balance with what we perceive as reality. His idea of thankfulness has never been very present in his psychological makeup, and at present he seems to have little or no awareness of the extent of the loving care and attention he is receiving. He is angry in moments when he realizes his entrapment and then his moods usually turn to helpless and hopelessness, but in between times his underlying sweetness often comes into play changing his behavior for a little while into child-like living.

Today, while he was wandering around the garden, he must have been awestruck when he came upon this glorious bush, covered with brilliant pink flowers. I would have loved to have heard his inner conversation. Was he drawn to the innocence of the blossoms, something like he himself, blooming for no apparent reason, or did he just have a sudden urge to pick one and bring it in to give to me? I wonder what tickled the remnants of his mind that prompted him to break a single branch and come inside the house, saying simply "I have brought you a flower. It's for you."

This may not be so full of wonder had he ever given me flowers before! He never had! He was just not that sort of a person. This was the first flower he had ever given me in all the 64 years of our marriage! My treasured thanksgiving flower speaks testaments of love and faith and thankfulness.

I wonder if he had caught the Thanksgiving energy that is circulating in our hearts at this season. Had it automatically seeped into his psyche? It sometimes seems to me that demented minds have keener sensibilities in different dimensions than those we ordinarily have. To me, that calls for us to dwell on lofty ideals. To do that has awesome power to work for good.

A post script, added at a later date:

Since writing about this happening, which lit Joe's mind with thankfulness and lifted my spirits so much, his recall of it became engulfed into the dark caverns of his unconsciousness to become yet another forever lost memory. It is now locked inside Joe's ever diminishing capacity of remembering....a sweet thing living where all the other orphaned memories reside. They call to me fervently to recreate them once again. My answer is that thankful deeds of kindness can never be forgotten. I tell them that my pen is the sacred instrument through which they shall live again.

Giving Thanks, by Gloria Hannigan

I am thankful for –

Time to remember the past

Health of body and spirit

Acts of kindness received

Nature’s colors revealed

Knowledge gained through living

Smiles shared with strangers

Generous spurts of humor

Intelligence still growing

Variety in friendships

Imagination in abundance

New days ever dawning

Gifts of shared laughter

For more of Gloria's stories, please visit: Gloria's Blog

Thanksgiving with God, By Yolanda Adele

It was 1991. Getting together with the family for Thanksgiving Dinner was not something that I was looking forward to, having lost my father, whom we called Popi, just two months earlier. Yet I felt an obligation to my mother and the rest of the family to be there to help alleviate the obvious void that was left in my parent’s home.

On holidays before my dad died the house and neighborhood had been filled with the sounds of Mexican music blasting from dad’s reel-to-reel tape-recorder. That tape recorder could play non-stop for 24 hours and sometimes did, often times to the annoyance of the neighbors, and always to the frustration of my mother, who was hard of hearing. I could hear it the minute that I turned on to their block in Huntington Park, though their house was almost at the end of the street.

Popi enjoyed having lots of activity around him, especially since my eldest daughter Yvette made him a great-grandfather, first with Jaime, born in 1986, then with Brandon who was born in 1990.

It amazed me to watch Popi interact with his great-grandchildren in a way that he never could with his own children. I came to realize that both grandparenting and great-grandparenting were God’s way of giving parents another chance to get the bonding thing right if they didn’t fare well the first time.

Jaime loved her Popi. The last time that she saw him alive she was five years old. She came with her parents to visit with Popi in his bedroom where he lay on a hospital bed. My mom called us to the kitchen to eat. I told Popi to rest and that we’d return in a bit.

After a while Jaime left the table. I got up to look for her. I went to the living room where her toys were spread out on the floor; she was not there. I checked in the bathroom; she was not there either.

I walked down the hall to my father’s bedroom. There I saw the sweetest sight. Jaime had somehow managed to squeeze through or climb over the hospital bed’s metal side guard and was lying on her side facing her Popi. They were both smiling at each other as Jaime gently stroked the top of his head.

Now the family gathered without any lively Mexican or any other kind of music playing. In fact the only sounds beside our voices were the harsh clattering of the dishes, and silverware. I didn’t know how I was going to get through this strained family gathering.

We held hands around the table and said grace. Then, with a voice like an angel, Jaime proclaimed, “Popi is so lucky. This is his first Thanksgiving with God.” Suddenly I felt all the bent up tension leave my body. A smoothing peace washed over me. Someone turned on the radio, filling the house with a joyful noise… then I knew Jaime was right.

Let's Be Thankful Every Day, by Barbara Sparks

Recently my son decided, after listening to the CD series by Anthony Robbins, that we should start our morning walks by saying things for which we are grateful.  It has been a wonderful activity for us. Though Thanksgiving is a time when we think of our blessings, it is important that we think of our blessings every day not, just one day a year.  

As Thanksgiving approaches, I think about how I celebrated Thanksgiving 12 years ago.  I went to the store to buy all the traditional items for a Thanksgiving meal.  All of my life my mother had cooked the Thanksgiving meal. However, since my mother passed away three days before Thanksgiving I was to prepare the meal for my cousins who flew in for her funeral, which was to take place on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  I, of course, said, “Don’t worry.  I’ll cook the meal.” Unfortunately. on Thanksgiving Day  no one was able to cook, so we all went to Hometown Buffet instead.

I remember what my mother said a week before she died.  She said, “Barbara you have to let me go.  God has blessed me with 80 years.”  In response, I said. “God has blessed me with you for 55 years.”  I think about that time and all the other times in my life when my mother had always found the bright side of difficult situations and made me remember that in all things to be grateful.  She was a continuous inspiration to me throughout my life. 

Since my mother is no longer here to celebrate Thanksgiving with me, I now have a new Thanksgiving tradition.   Every Thanksgiving my son and I travel to Olympia, Washington where I enjoy Thanksgiving with my uncle, three cousins and their children.  It is wonderful to share the holiday with family.  We enjoy a delicious feast that is cooked by my uncle, two of my cousins and my cousin’s daughter while we share family stories.   The house is filled with the aroma of turkey, dressing, green beans, mustard and collard greens, macaroni and cheese, sweet potato pie and the sounds of laughter and love. I am so grateful to be able to enjoy this time with them.

So as we approach this wonderful time of year let’s all think about our blessings which include family and friends. Each day, remember to celebrate life and the events that bring a smile to your face.

Happy Thanksgiving