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18 November 2021

I’LL TAKE A SIDE OF THANKSGIVING

I didn’t learn or fully understand and appreciate what Thanksgiving meant until my third grade teacher, Mrs Bowling was telling the tale of the first Thanksgiving, vividly she shared their first meals and traditions and encouraged the class to share their own celebrations. In turn, she too, shared how her beyond large and extended family get together every year. They thank God for their time together over a meal which everyone contributed to what was an organized pot-luck cornucopia filled with all the savory turkey and ham with mouthwatering sides and finishing off with more decadent desserts than one could imagine. When I got home from school that day, I was so excited to share with my Mom what happened in school and learning about the “copococo” or however I sabotaged the word, cornucopia, the horn of plenty. My Mom called Mrs Bowling to find out what I was so excited to share. Mrs Bowling excitedly shared the day’s events and story with my Mom just as she did at school that day.

Throughout my journey, I often share being a proud first generation American, born to two parents who immigrated from Hungary for the sole purpose to have an opportunity at a better life than the one they left in the soon to be communist Hungary. My parents, as most immigrants had to learn English, assimilate into a new country, adopt new customs and traditions and still manage to get a job and make a life better for themselves and call themselves proud Americans.

Little did I know when I wrote “Be There” in March of 2015 for my close friend upon the loss of her father, that I too would be in the same situation just over a year later. Although, Thanksgiving Day varies what date on the calendar it falls, Thanksgiving Day will always mark the day my Dad passed away. I remember certain parts of the day all to vividly, like a video on a continuous loop. I remember convincing my Mom to let’s go visit Dad before his dialysis treatment, then circle to my friend’s house for Thanksgiving lunch and finally return to the hospital to visit with Dad in the afternoon. I remember arriving at my parents’ house, Mom was still getting herself ready and the phone rang. I usually don’t answer their phone, but my suspicion told me to answer it that morning. It was the doctor at the hospital giving us the news Dad’s vitals are critically low and we should make every effort to come into see him as soon as possible. The rest became a blur as we rushed to the hospital and shortly thereafter, he passed away.

When they called my Dad’s death, I could hear Dad saying with laughter, something like, “Jó étvágyat kivánunk!” (Hungarian for bon appetite) and wishing us a good meal as he was being led to heaven by an angel. Ironically, it was Thanksgiving Day of all holidays he passed away, the holiday which he seemed to enjoy the most even though he wasn’t fond of turkey and all of its accompanying inviting side dishes. Thanksgiving for my Dad was the time his friends get together and enjoy the people who mean the most in our lives with a great Thanksgiving feast which Mom would begin preparing for once the calendar hit November 1. Even though we had the traditional turkey, the sides and desserts of our meal had a Hungarian spin which was differently delicious to the American counterparts.

Since our close family was only my parents, a dog and I - we invited friends over who were in much the same situation as us, to share the holiday with us. While I still hear my Dad laughing at those of us stuck eating turkey and the savory sides this Thanksgiving, Mom and I’s felt it was appropriate to have our first Thanksgiving meal since his passing. Many of the other faces around the table or have too passed away or moved away. Mom and I plan to celebrate the day with cherished memories of the many turkey days past which we shared with our many friends and let the cornucopia of moments of laughter and tears fill our hearts.

I learned grieving is very personal and very different, we all find our own way through time, personal pain and somewhere along the way accept our loss amiably. Sometimes best we can do is just be there for that friend who may need you in their time. No words can ever be enough but your presence is priceless. Often silence and presence is the best we can offer the one experiencing the loss. Even the darkest dreary days will eventually be conquered by the sun shining strongly, giving reasons to be grateful for another day to rejoice life and take time to remember those who are no longer with us. When it was my turn in experiencing a loss of a parent, one of my closest friends shared this with me when I lost my Dad.

“You never get over the loss, the pain remains constant, you just need time to work through the loss.”

Every year, especially this year, it is especially important to be mindful and thankful for the blessings we have. This year proved to so many, you just never know, when in an instant, all of can be taken away and all that remain are nostalgic memories. Rather than being told not to celebrate with those outside of your immediate household, I say celebrate with your families to the level you feel most comfortable. If you feel at ease, invite a friend or neighbor who may alone during the holiday season. If it’s in a family gathering be safe - if it’s only your immediate household make sure you reach out to those you love. You never know if that’s the last one you will be together.

While I may celebrate Thanksgiving a whole new way this year, I would be remiss if I didn’t wish my family and friends a blessed Thanksgiving gathering. May you be blessed to fill a cornucopia of memories with a side of traditional Thanksgiving meal to celebrate my Dad’s memory of what Thanksgiving is all about. There will always be a small part of me wishing my Thanksgiving Day were much like the ones Mrs Bowling and her family celebrated, yet I realize the Norman Rockwell canvas, “Freedom from Want” captured both of our ways of celebrating. It’s just a matter of your perspective of what the holiday is all about.



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