No Fighting for Thanksgiving

For most of my life Thanksgiving was my father’s big holiday. There is nothing he liked better than to cook large, I mean giant, portions of rich food and feed everyone. Then he would host lots of my friends and their kids for a big day at the farm the day after Thanksgiving and we would all go to the Mexican restaurant near his house where he was treated like a King because he was the best tipper in town. We hardly ever fought at the Mexican restaurant.

Since he has been gone the last few years Thanksgiving has taken on a calmer and more serene vibe. Carter does most of the cooking until the last minute stuff when I step in to get everything finished at the same time.

When my Dad was alive we often would have some big fight at the dinner table. An unnamed relative would say, “You aren’t going to like this, but I am going to say it anyway.” I would beg, “whatever it is, don’t say it.” And then be ignored and the fight would break out.

Despite that history we went back year after year anticipating a good Thanksgiving due to some kind of amnesia. Some years I would invite new friends who had no relatives to annoy them, in the hopes that their presence would temper the fighting, but no, it would still break out.

This year instead of fighting I had medical forms to fill out with my mother about her wishes in terms of potential catastrophic medical issues. Feeding tube or no feeding tube? An interesting question right before the big meal. Considering how little my mother eats a feeding tube would not be necessary.

We miss my Dad, but quite frankly Thanksgiving is a much more pleasant holiday. Nothing bad was brought up and no fighting took place. Given the state of our country I find this to be a Thanksgiving miracle.