Imagine if you will, Ms. Streisand serenading us with that tune as you read this. And yes, I cruelly put that song in your head in hopes that it would get unstuck out of mine. So far, no luck.Moving on. On the eve of Thanksgiving, a true "American" holiday I have decided to veer into two personal stories—my best and worst Thanksgivings. So sit back, pull up a plate of your pie of choice and enjoy.
Worst
The year was 1994. I was in my senior year of college, about two weeks from concluding a semester abroad. I had used some free travel time during my journey to visit friends in Helsinki, Finland. While there, they recommended a very modestly priced "cruise" to St. Petersburg, Russia. The night the ship was returning to Helsinki, there was a major storm. The sea was angry that night, my friend. Broad was tossed about on her wee bunk. At some point I stumbled to the miniscule bathroom and passed out with my head in the toilet, occasionally rising to brush my teeth and start down the nausea path again. I managed to pull myself together to exit the ship when it docked. And that was Thanksgiving 1994.
Best
The year was 2004. Odd that the best Thanksgiving fell exactly 10 years after the worst. After about a year and a half of trying to get pregnant (damn those wasted years of unnecessary birth control), I strongly suspected that the spawn of Broad had been conceived. Meanwhile, the idiot sibling's marriage was imploding over the green bean casserole, oddly enough this did nothing to dampen Broad's joy or thankfulness on that blessed day, if anything it added to it. Thus, a pea-sized spawn of Broad feasted on the turkey and oysters I partook of that day, enjoying a little in utero T-Day. And that was Thanksgiving 2004.
Gentle readers, I know that family is not all it is cracked up to be, so I respectfully remind you to find the joy and happiness and peace in your life where you may, and if that is hiding in a garage with a pint of Jose Cuervo, so be it. Broad would never judge you, I am just grateful you take a few minutes of your day to read my yammerings.
3 comments:
will you not judge me if i'm in my garage w/ jose my brother-in-law drinking tekillya? ; ) he he seriously, this is a great post. i heart the spawn : )
I enjoyed that post almost as much as the tequila I downed in the garage, even though I can't afford Cuervo.
Fortunately, my Thanksgivings never quite fall into "worst" or best." Usually either "most like a soap opera" or "most surreal."
I'm just thankful it rained this Thanksgiving, which afforded me the opportunity to skip the obligatory ride around the yard on the ATV--with my 82-year-old father. While I can appreciate the humor in the situation, it's never funny at the time.
Enjoyed reading your 2 memories!
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