Thanks

Over the river and through the woods . . . and this is as close I can come to a Thanksgiving picture. Thanksgiving is complicated for us. On one hand, we had a great supper with family last night, turkey and prime rib and home-made pies, Caitlin's cranberry relish and a spirited game of scattergories, scotch and wine and tryptophan.

On the other hand, my mother has no short term memory and drinking wine is an issue for her, since she can't count the glasses. Halloween she passed out in a chair, or nearly, and I had to force feed her lasagne and carefully guide her back to her room so she could lie, rather than fall, down. Last Sunday, we tried our hand at gentle deception, pouring non-alcoholic wine into different bottle and serving mom. When she went back for more, I offered faint protest and she had a glass anyway. This was rehearsal for Thanksgiving.

I'm happy to say that our ruse worked very well. Mom polished off two thirds of the bottle of wine and seemed not to notice that she wasn't smashed. She was charming and social and seemed to enjoy the turmoil of the cousins, the company, and of course the food. It was almost like having my mother come to Thanksgiving, except, increasingly she is less than my mother, less and less of the strong, brilliant, witty, complex and complicated woman she was.

Still, there are tidbits and moments that carry us along. Mom and I were talking about Dad and she told me that after he died she went through the house screaming her anger, at him, at life. We agreed it was good that she lived in a big house and not an apartment.

On yet another hand, my friends Kevin and Diana are getting the worst end of Diana's cancer over this alleged holiday. A brain tumor has complicated her recovery from lung cancer and left her with vertigo symptoms that would drop a moose, and a waiting period for emergency surgery at the U of I Hospitals and clinics. They are more than strong, these two. They are consistent in their care of each other and of us, their good friends and family. They approach this with intelligence, assertiveness, wit and the endurance we seldome see except those whose long relationships have understandings and overtones not heard by most humans. For this grace, I am thankful, even in this dire strait.

For my mother, my in-laws, my beautiful wife and children, for a morning reading and drinking coffee in a quiet house, for the uneventful, for grace and love, warm socks and cold beer, for friends who know us and whom we know, for small miracles, I am thankful today.

I hope for the safety of those I love, for meaning in the face of the meaningless, for understanding from time to time, for music and love.