Thanksgiving

Joseph, the two year old, has wrapped himself up in a rug, his eyes are wild. His mother,my daughter-in-law, fraught with his nine month old sister who at this stage will not let anyone but her hold her or connect with her, is exhausted. Both parents, so talented at the job of parenthood, are bleary eyed these days from having their house torn apart in a construction project that will eventually double their living space. Both of them keep on working through all this.

They invited us to come for Thanksgiving so we did. We made the trek out to Vashon, an island in Puget Sound for a family Thanksgiving. We picked up our rental car and drove through 40 degree rain. We stopped at my sister's to pick up the key for my brother-in-law's house he built himself, a stylish, almost completed place in the deep woods.

The driveway is long and dark. Our rental car was brand new and we did not realize that it smugly locks itself up whenever you get out of the car. So, of course, we locked the keys inside with both cell phones! What to do? We did a whole lot of hiking around in the rain with no flashlight to find anyone who could help. Finally we found a neighbor who kindly drove us to our son's house. Meanwhile, I left Andy to wait for the car lock to be resolved and I went to my sister's house where we were all to have dinner.

My sister had made a lovely dinner, comfort food, fire in the fireplace, for all the family, twelve of us. We put our feet up on the hearth, took dogs in our laps, sipped that wonderful Washington state wine, and waited for Andy to appear. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion from the kitchen. Apparently a pie left on a burner by mistake got too hot and shattered, blowing glass shards everywhere. The dinner was ruined and everything had to be thrown out. We quickly regrouped and made another dinner- pasta, canned tomatoes, a can of beans,canned onion rings, anything else we could find. New salad, and we had dinner again. By the time Andy appeared, having resolved the key crisis, we were ready to sit down at the table.

We love being there in Jim's house, though it's a bit primitive. Our bed looks out to tall evergreen trees. We open the windows and cuddle under down quilts. At night I could see the meteor showers through the trees, and there is silence. Not quite. Our son and his family decided to stay there too, to avoid the vapors from the insulation that had just been installed in their house. There is only one bathroom.

This was an occasion for both sets of grandparents to be on hand. Natalie's folks stayed at a local b and b, but we all gathered for meals and to help our children get ready for the dry wall contractors who would appear after the holiday.

These other grandparents are certainly dear to us. They have produced a wonderful daughter, our son's wife, and the mother of two grandkids. These other grandparents might have come from another planet. I struggle to find a common topic of conversation. Some things are taboo, I know: religion, politics. Travel is no good,neither are environmental concerns, art or music, food or gardening, and we are not sports fans as they are. So we fall back on the adoration of grandchildren and this is always good. These are truly decent people. I did not stab anyone with a fork and I was pretty good overall. (I think!)

We are certainly not a dysfunctional family. But when I look at the photos I see those moments when the chins of the elders sag, the old dog is splayed out on the couch, the teenage kids are looking bored and just barely tolerating the scene, and my retarded brother is looking strange but satisfied in the background. I see the turkey, now a mess of eviscerated flesh, the youngest grandchild in a 'mean Queen' mode. Joe, the two year old, makes it all come together when he says, "Grandpa, thank you for the dinner"

But at the end of the Thanksgiving day I am thankful to have this amazing family. I am thankful that none of our family are fighting in Iraq, and I am thankful to the young people who put their lives on the line in Iraq. I am thankful that the American electorate has said "Enough!" about this war. I am thankful to be an American.