I don’t recall Thanksgiving from my childhood. I’m sure it was there, and I’m sure we ate turkey, etc. But if it was a substantial and important holiday, it was mostly so because we got a day off school.
As such, I was unprepared for the Important Role that Thanksgiving plays in the life of Catherine’s family and, indeed, in the life of Islanders. (As an aside: people like Catherine, from the Ottawa Valley, are in some very deep and profound ways, exactly like Islanders).
So while my family is strung out along almost the entire length of the Trans-Canada Highway this Thanksgiving weekend — literally from coast to prarie to interior to coast — a good part of Catherine’s extended family is gathering tomorrow at Aunt Ioma’a house in Godfrey, Ontario (halfway between Kingston and Kaladar) for Thanksgiving dinner.
Here on the Island, I have been overwhelmed by the concern shown by my friends and neighbours, both physical and virtual, for my Thanksgiving well-being.
I am happy to report that I will be spending Thanksgiving Sunday in the company of my friend Ann, her consort, the much lauded God in Aubergine Jacket, her daughter, the Babysitter from Heaven, and a random scatterling of other interesting people. Apparently Ann is basting the walnuts as we speak.
To Kevin, who I’ve known almost since setting foot on the Island, and to Alan, who I’ve never met face to face but to whom I am distantly related, thank you for your invitations, veiled and otherwise.
And, in the immortal words of Les Nesman, Happy…. Thanks…. Giving!