-Isms

While I count my blessings each and every day, I have never cared for Thanksgiving. Bad memories tend to resurface.

Like how the smell of turkey roasting in the oven reminds me of three-year-old LuAnn, who was ill with influenza, tried a bite of turkey and couldn’t keep it down.

Grandma Fields understood my pain, and every year, she also baked a ham so people, -er, I could have another choice.

Simpler times then.

In 2003, my husband died from a pulmonary embolism, two days before Thanksgiving. He was 39. He had been ill for approximately six months prior to his death, yet it still shocked and rocked our family.

Good memories of Thanksgiving exist, too, though. Like when our extended family watched the Huskers defeat Oklahoma in the Game of the Century. My grandparents hosted the family dinner at their farmhouse, southeast of Oakdale.

Nebraska jumped out to an early lead, but by the half, the Sooners edged ahead, 17-14. Nebraska regained control in the third quarter, but with 7:10 remaining in the game, Jack Mildren threw a 16-yard pass to Jon Harrison, giving OU a 31-28 advantage.

I remember Dad pacing around the living room, loud voices and a lot of consternation from the menfolk crowded around the television. Then, when Jeff Kinney plunged across the goal line with a little more than one minute remaining, shouts of joy echoed throughout the house.

Almost in unison, female family members shushed their husbands, praying the newborn twins, who were napping in the bedroom, wouldn’t be woken by the outburst. We still get a chuckle out of this memory during family reunions.

This year, Thanksgiving will take a different slant. The kids are spending the day with other sides of the family. We aren’t allowed in the care center to visit with Dad. My sister is picking up a shift at work. Looks like it will be a quiet day at the Schindler household.

I’m okay with that.

For once, I will not have to prepare a feast and deal with two week’s worth of leftovers. Maybe I can watch Macy’s annual parade, even though this year’s festivities will be virtual. Finally, I can curl up on the couch and watch my beloved Detroit Lions battle the Texans, rather than catch glimpses of the game while I clean the kitchen.

And, I will make the drive to Battle Creek and spend 30 minutes with Dad via telephone, while I stand outside his window, sharing Thanksgiving memories, even though we can’t share a piece of pecan pie.

It’s a strange sense of normality in the age of a pandemic. It makes me wonder: Is Thanksgiving stuffed? Will this be the year we realize the importance of blessings and time, understand nothing is certain and never has been?

Solitude soothes the soul, and my Thanksgiving wish for you is to find a sense of peace and count your daily blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving, from our family to yours.