highlight of yet another disappointing Thanksgiving
I can't remember ever having a good Thanksgiving. My early childhood turkey days were marked by long drives to Pine Hill, Alabama, and the dank smell of the fellowship hall of the old Church of Christ. The highlights? My great-aunt Jenny's pecan pie and the graveyard outside, where I tried to figure out how/why individuals died.
This Thanksgiving. Hmm. I probably should've just stayed in bed. Except for the wine. I guess that was worth getting out of bed for.
And I had an interesting experience today. I was at the mall with my family and a lone young soldier walked out of the building as we were walking in. We didn't converse. A couple of minutes later, I turned around and went running after him, down the long concrete sidewalk to the parking lot. He heard me coming and smiled. "Would you like to go see a movie with my family? It's Thanksgiving," I said. He looked hopeful, then glanced at his watch. Noting the time, he replied that he had some other things he had to attend to but thanked me, smiled, and held out his hand. "Thanks for all that you do," I said and turned around. "And happy Thanksgiving."
I've always held a special place in my heart for the military. This interaction today seems important for some reason. I mean, nothing came of it exactly, but it just felt special. I've tucked this memory deep in the recesses of my brain like a child's buried treasure. I'll examine it again someday, I know. For now, I'm going to leave it be. I refuse to believe that it was a completely meaningless moment. In that time, I did something purely by instinct. I made a new friend. I finally forgave another dear friend for joining the military. I thought about what it means to give up your life (including holidays) for your country. I guess I did have a purpose today; maybe it is better that I did get out of bed. But I could've slept in a little more.
And as for truly great Thanksgivings...there's always next year.
This Thanksgiving. Hmm. I probably should've just stayed in bed. Except for the wine. I guess that was worth getting out of bed for.
And I had an interesting experience today. I was at the mall with my family and a lone young soldier walked out of the building as we were walking in. We didn't converse. A couple of minutes later, I turned around and went running after him, down the long concrete sidewalk to the parking lot. He heard me coming and smiled. "Would you like to go see a movie with my family? It's Thanksgiving," I said. He looked hopeful, then glanced at his watch. Noting the time, he replied that he had some other things he had to attend to but thanked me, smiled, and held out his hand. "Thanks for all that you do," I said and turned around. "And happy Thanksgiving."
I've always held a special place in my heart for the military. This interaction today seems important for some reason. I mean, nothing came of it exactly, but it just felt special. I've tucked this memory deep in the recesses of my brain like a child's buried treasure. I'll examine it again someday, I know. For now, I'm going to leave it be. I refuse to believe that it was a completely meaningless moment. In that time, I did something purely by instinct. I made a new friend. I finally forgave another dear friend for joining the military. I thought about what it means to give up your life (including holidays) for your country. I guess I did have a purpose today; maybe it is better that I did get out of bed. But I could've slept in a little more.
And as for truly great Thanksgivings...there's always next year.