Of all the holidays during the year, Thanksgiving is my favorite. What’s not to love about an occasion that asks nothing of us but that we consciously take a break and reflect on our lives, recognizing the blessings that may go unnoticed throughout the year. Thanksgiving is particularly poignant for me this year as months of upheaval, uncertainty, and strife in our nation have reshaped life’s meaning and priority for me.
Lately, I have found myself reflecting on the wisdom of my family, now departed.
I remember a conversation with my grandmother, nearly 40 years ago, when I questioned why she kept six bags of sugar and six bags of flour in her cupboard. “You never know when plenty will end,” she said. When I protested that stores were almost never out of stock of basics, she gave me a look as only someone who had survived the very worst impacts of the Great Depression could.
I’ve remembered my grandmother’s words many times this year as I darted from one store to the next on rumors of new deliveries. Today, my basement has been transformed into a mini-warehouse of dry goods and other supplies. Maybe I’ll never need it. But if there’s a next time, I’ll be ready. My grandmother was right.
I remember my father, who pulled me aside on my college graduation day and said, “Remember, if you’re healthy, have a paycheck, and a roof over your head, you’re doing fine.” I graduated in the middle of the Reagan years, when it seemed as if nothing was out of reach, and I recall thinking that my father’s words were preposterously minimalist. And yet this year, amid catastrophic health impacts from COVID and epic economic disruption, his words returned.
Half way to 57, through vigilance and good habits, I’ve dodged most of the ailments of middle age. The gallows humor of “At least you have your health,” has become a truism and blessing. On countless occasions through the year, as I watched video of my fellow citizens overwhelming food banks, or falling behind on rent or mortgage payments, I’ve found myself deeply humbled that I had a job, a paycheck and a roof over my head. My dad was right.
Beyond the wisdom of family, I am conscious of all the sacrifice that has occurred around me this year.
I am grateful to the army of people who get little notice or recognition, but who keep our country moving. Sanitation workers, farmers, meat packers, line workers, truck drivers, everyone in retail, who brave the virus to do jobs that pay marginally but are critical; people who kept the supply chains from collapsing altogether.
There is Mary. She’s a checker at my local supermarket. Mary is a favorite because she is fast, friendly and knows how to pack a bag of groceries – a lost art today. We became “supermarket friends,” chatting regularly as I checked out. A 30-year employee of the store and nearing retirement, Mary disappeared when COVID hit. I feared the worst, until she showed up again this summer. Formidably attired with a top of the line mask, face shield, double gloves and a smock, Mary related how she had stayed home in order to protect her husband, who was at high risk from COVID. Knowing that she would have to return to work to pay the bills, she researched the best protection available, and the precautions she would need to take when returning home from work to keep her husband safe, and then she did it. There is an admirable grit that someone nearing 70 would do this.
Usually very “matter of fact,” Mary was overwhelmed by all the customers who asked after her while she was gone, and the good wishes she’d received since. Strip away the façade of normalcy, and our common humanity will always float to the surface.
I am profoundly grateful to our police, paramedics and healthcare workers, who risk their lives every day to help others. Despite controversy and epic challenges, these men and women never gave up. That same gratitude flows to our troops who protect us each day, some from very far off locations, without family. There’s no virtual work for our warriors, no shelter in place. But they get up every day and do their duty, without complaint. These people are the heart of America.
Lastly, I’m simply grateful to my fellow Americans.
In the middle of the worst pandemic in a century, we successfully managed a presidential election. Average citizens in 3,102 counties who developed blueprints to keep voters and poll workers safe, to ensure Americans had the ability to vote, and that ballots would be counted fairly and accurately, even at personal risk to themselves. And to the voters – the largest percentage to go to the polls since 1908 – who overcame cynicism and disinformation to embrace one of our most sacred rights – to right to choose our leaders.
Each Thanksgiving, I cherish the blessings bestowed upon us as Americans, and that remains true this year. Our political system was tested in ways unimaginable a decade ago, and while it was bent and bruised this year, it didn’t break. An economy deeply wounded by the impacts of COVID still adapted with amazing speed, changing distribution channels, fortifying supply chains and changing the very nature of work to cope with the virus. Hundreds of new businesses sprang up as entrepreneurs found new solutions to new problems.
It comes as no surprise that the first vaccines developed to combat COVID were developed in America. Of course they were. That is what we do.
So, this Thanksgiving, with the benefit of timeless wisdom, and deep gratitude to so many amid trying times and difficult circumstances, I hold my blessings tightly and perhaps more authentically than before. To each of you, with my own full heart, I wish a happy and peaceful Thanksgiving.
God bless.