A Simple Celebration Of Thanks

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I'm actually pretty much of a holiday junkie. I love Christmas with its lights and music and hopeful proclamation of peace and good will; Halloween with its spooky ghosts and goblins; New Years and Mardi Gras with their great food and merriment; Easter and Labor Day and the Fourth of July, and well, all the smaller holidays that mark our days with bright red asterisks and make them special.

Oh, I know that every day we open our eyes and take in a breath is special. Twenty-four hours is twenty-four hours after all - a turkey picture on the calendar doesn't magically transform one particular day of the month into something extraordinary. Or does it? After all, isn't that what a holiday is about? Taking an ordinary day, marking it with some special remembrance or significance, so that all of us can in some way be the better for acknowledging it.

I think that's one of the reasons I like holidays so much. I feel like a better person for acknowledging and celebrating these special days. After all, holidays are a uniquely human creation - and I think their celebration not only helps put us in touch with our past, it helps bring down walls in the present and build bridges toward the future.

And of all our American holidays, Thanksgiving is particularly good for doing all of the above. For one thing, we can focus our attentions on just two things - family and food. We don't have to buy presents, hide eggs, sew costumes or decorate trees. We just have to open our cookbooks, put on our aprons and roll up our sleeves. Some of the recipes we prepare for this special meal are so tried-and-true, they practically make themselves. Perhaps in our family we're noted for a favorite dish and that's the one everyone will be waiting for when we arrive. Somehow camaraderie and good spirits run high all day long, from the first sighting of Snoopy in the Macy's Parade, through every touchdown right to the appearance of that magnificent golden brown turkey (or vegetarian specialty!) at the head of the table. This holiday just naturally lends itself to honoring traditions while bridging generational gaps.

And to me, that's one of the best things about Thanksgiving. While we honor what it represents, our nation's recognition of a need to give thanks for our bounty and good fortune, we are also able to add our own unique touches to the holiday - recipes that reflect the region where we live or the culture that shaped our particular family.

But however your family celebrates Thanksgiving, whether you prepare the entire feast or bring that special recipe everyone anticipates or you sit in front of the television set all day cheering your favorite football team, remember that when everyone is gathered around the table together, there is one more ingredient vital to the Thanksgiving menu. That ingredient is thanks.

Thanks for surviving another year together; thanks for the wonderful memories of those who have left us; thanks for the health we too often take for granted; thanks for the hope that feeds our spirits and keeps us trying; thanks for the chance to make things a little better for those less fortunate. And especially thanks for the love of the people with whom we are sharing this wonderful and very special day of Thanksgiving. May all of us have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving Day. And may all of us have Hope and Peace in the year ahead.

Some Dads Just Know About Halloween

My Dad always knew about Halloween. This is not a trait any kid should take for granted because many fathers don't understand Halloween at all. I know my brothers and I appreciated our Father's unique talents in this regard because right around the first of October we would automatically shift into our best behaviors so as not to interrupt the unearthly workings of our Father's imagination as he set about planning for the Great Night.

How does a Dad acquire this knowledge of demons, witches, ghosts and goblins? I'm convinced it's handed down from his own Father, a special inheritance resulting from years of carving intricate jack-o-lanterns, endless hours of thinking up costumes and countless miles traversed with trick-or-treating kids.

One of my earliest Halloween memories was being cradled in my Father's arms as he took my older brother and his friends trick-or-treating. I swear I can remember the scratchiness of his beard against my cheek and the smell of coffee on his breath as he laughed and admonished the boys not to run too far ahead. I must have been no more than four because once I got into kindergarten, I was allowed to wear a costume and walk holding onto my Father's hand.

As we got older, my Father's Halloween schemes got more elaborate, perhaps because he realized the number of Halloween's we'd be sharing together was dwindling. My father was a stuntman and screenwriter, and one year he "borrowed" the costume from the movie "Creature From The Black Lagoon." At our front door he planted a sign written in blood (okay, red paint) challenging the brave of heart to follow the path of glowing jack-o-lanterns around to the back of the house. All night long adventuresome kids pushed and shoved each other down the trail of eerily grinning faces until they reached our backyard gate. Usually at least one out of the crowd was courageous enough to open the screeching gate and cautiously step into the yard. Sitting in our den behind partially opened blinds, my Father (dressed as The Creature) would blink the desk lamp on and off so that our visitors could catch a scary glimpse of him. Sometimes that was enough to send kids flying in all directions, but for those brave enough to creep forward, The Creature, who had now stepped onto the porch with a huge bowl of candy, were rewarded for their courage.

Then there was the Halloween I came home from school to find our front yard transformed into a cemetery complete with headstones, ghosts floating in the tree branches and a "dead man" hanging from a rope. I'm not sure what my Mother thought of all these antics but she was always a good sport, sending us off with a good hot meal in our tummies and lots of homemade oatmeal cookies awaiting our return.

My brothers also inherited my Dad's Halloween gene, especially my brother Leo who makes his house and yard so scary, I think I'd have nightmares sleeping in his house at night.  I'm more of the fun, kid-cute and friendly Halloween type of celebrant.  From decorations to parties with apple bobbing, games and, of course, trick-or-treating, Halloween was always a special night when my girls were little.  The ghosts and goblins around our house were more fun than really scary.

Now we have a new generation initiated into the spooky fun of Halloween and I am eagerly looking forward to strolling down the street tonight with three of my eight (yes, eight!) grandchildren. Whether dressed as witches or ninjas, sharks or cartoon characters, kids and grown-ups alike will be having a spooky good time.  Ah, isn't life grand?

Tonight, when all the festivities are over, I may just take another late night stroll, this time with my own cup of coffee in hand, to share some silent memories with my Dad. You see, the man who always loved this day, left this earthly realm on Halloween. Always one for a dramatic entrance, Dad knew how to make a dramatic exit as well. See you out there, Papo.