I am assuming that the stuffed turkey is no longer at your table as you read this. And no, I'm not referring to the one with two legs and two wings: I'm talking about the one with two legs and no wings: Uncle Reggie and his family from Saskatchewan.
As usual, as I write this, we haven't had our dinner yet; but as you read it, we will have. We anticipate a quiet dinner: We have never really gotten into having family over for Thanksgiving dinner. When I was younger, we were often at a Bible conference or in recent years I was teaching at one. That is still an option, just not a regular one.
For the last few years, we have been eating one of our own turkeys. We butchered almost twenty this year, keeping only a few for ourselves. The rest go to friends who want good farm-fresh, pastured meat.
I don't know where the tradition of thanksgiving slipped into our culture, or why it's in October, or why the big bird is part of the food fare. It is so similar to our friends to the South, yet in terms on time of year and point in history, it's a little different.
The cynic in me thinks it was a Wal-Mart conspiracy, spreading out the joy of shopping (= spending) over a few months, leading all the way up to Christmas. The kid in me, of course, thinks it's great.
Speaking of kids, as a parent, I have spend so much time training my own children to be thankful that often I fail to remind myself of the same. In other words, whatever words, responses, or gestures of gratitude I instill in my kids, I should keep in mind for myself.
And actually none of us adults are off the hook either: Are we really grateful for what we have? And, for that matter, for what we don't have?
Let me count the things that I am grateful for, even though I rarely voice them like I should. At least in this context, I can write about them. Here's hoping you agree with me.
One, I am grateful for my family. That would include my wife of thirty-two (and counting) years, plus all my kids and grand-kids. But I don't stop there: I think of my siblings, their wives and kids, and the generation (and generations) before them. We are of the Irish-English stock, and I am grateful for those that, like your parents or grandparents, had the pluck to leave kith and kin, to sail for Canada.
Two, I am grateful for my country. I love Canada and the freedom we have to speak, worship, vote, live, and travel. I may or may not agree with the politics—no matter what level I look at—but in the grand scheme of things, we have it good here.
If you're have any doubt, do a quick current events test, using the names of North Korea, Somalia, Syria, and Nigeria as answers. Yes, we have a national debt, unresolved First Nations issues, gangs in big cities, and many other problems, but overall, this is a wonderful place to live.
Three, I am grateful for my health. I have had a few scares over the years, but, hey, I'm still sitting in front of my word processor, aren't I? We too often take life for granted, like we're entitled to our 70 or 80 years. Well, here's news for you: We're not. Take each day as a present (pun mercilessly intended). The past has passed, and tomorrow is elusive as a butterfly. Breath in today's air.
Four, I am grateful for living here in Alberta. Years ago, with some mild resistance from family, I took the plunge and shifted east to Alberta. Many of you have read of my migration, so I won't bore you with repeat details. Two house fires later, two pink slips later, a few off-the-road-adventures-in-the-middle-of-winter later, we are still here—and I would say, for the most part, thriving.
Overall, Alberta has been good for my family and me. I have been stretched and challenged at every level, making me a better husband, father, writer, teacher, businessman, farmer, and believer. A soft, stagnant culture produces soft, stagnant citizens, something I never want to become.
Lastly, I am grateful that this newspaper to allow me to rant and rave on a regular basis. I never dreamed that my overture to the then-editor many years ago would lead to this weekly blast. Okay, it's usually a blast; sometimes it's an explosion of nerves and sweat. I just make it appear easy.
So, you need to think of things you're grateful for. That's how your parents raised you, that's how you raised your kids. And that includes thankfulness for a stuffed turkey like Uncle Reggie—even if it's for the fact that he won't be around for another year.
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