What Thanksgiving Means to Me

Nearly 30 people spend all or part of their work life here at GPCink making all sorts of things happen on deadline. We’ve got various “Plan B” contingencies in place, even duplicate equipment. But yesterday the plate burner suddenly quit, and “Plan B” also failed with one printing yet to run. Priorities abruptly changed. It even appeared that the 9,300+ copies scheduled to come off the press today, including the one now in your hands, might not happen.

Whenever the first hard, cold slap of winter occurs, electricians and plumbers step to the forefront as our most sought after “unsung heros.” I thought on that after my first six telephone calls failed to secure a repairman. Luckily, I interrupted the lunch of an electrician I’d never met who sympathized with my plea. He soon arrived, fixed, and then departed before I even had the chance to say, “Thank you.”

America’s finest wear uniforms. Of course, we are thankful to those in the military or to those whose gear includes a badge or to those wearing uniforms made to fight fires (and fear). They earn and deserve our utmost respect. But those who unselfishly serve others likewise have uniforms, regardless of what they wear. I am thankful for givers, not takers.

I am thankful to sneeze. I made a vow several years ago. After two back surgeries with all that modern medicine, medical specialists, and those in hospital uniforms could provide, I realized one telltale test of healthy success is simply to sneeze pain free. So, today I relish my sneezes. I let loose loudly and proudly. It may annoy you, but it’s my way of remembering to say “Thank you!”

I’m thankful for an appetite. Most of us have not endured gnawing, desperate, hopeless hunger. We’re more familiar when illness or advancing age saps the enthusiasm for food once favorite — and that’s not really hunger. I’m thankful for good food. I’m thankful for the way food brings families together, the way food helps melt nervous circumstances or helps celebrate an occasion. I’m thankful for the way an oatmeal-raisin cookie brightens my day.

July 4th may be viewed as our most American holiday, but to my knowledge only one country observes Thanksgiving — us, the U.S. Please reread President Wilson’s proclamation reprinted here (and note the dateline). I’m thankful we have the right to print whatever we choose. I’m thankful for our heritage where we acknowledge and formally honor Our Maker, and for the promising future before us if we continue to do so. I’m thankful for His truth and for hope — faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.

I’m thankful you’re reading this. You probably didn’t realize how one little electrical glitch threatened the delivery of this edition and a list of others. But that’s nothing more than the challenges so many face in the normal course of life — no more or less than when something breaks leaving the combine idle with so much of the field yet to cover. Or when the paycheck is threatened when the car fails to start with no other means to get to work. And so on.

I’m thankful when a little hand reaches out and grabs my thumb.

I’m thankful I’m old enough to have personal knowledge of the 2-holer outhouse, and that now those experiences live only in memory.

I’m thankful for music, all kinds of music and for having the very best readily available almost anytime at my fingertips. I marvel how a blast from the past vaults me back to a particular time and place like a trip through a time tunnel. Or how fabulous I think my voice blends as my heart soars to choral music, or how I can’t stop head bobbin’ to classic rock (by the way, do you know you simply cannot synchronize four separate vinyl record players simultaneously playing “Stairway to Heaven?”). And it’s bizarre how much I like acoustical guitar.

I’m thankful for those couples who happily celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary and even more for those able to tack on additional years of sincere bliss. What a testimony!

I’m thankful for kickoffs. It’s been nearly 40 years since a pulling guard squared up on me, challenging my responsibilities for containment on the gridiron. Football taught me there’s no disgrace in getting knocked down; it’s whether you get up and try again that counts. I still get excited when I watch the guys line up for the opening kickoff. It seems like I feel the physical sensation whenever I see a jarring hit or the elation of a perfect play or the satisfaction of deserving respect, win or lose. I’m thankful whenever I feel young again, even if only for a brief twinkle in mind’s eye.

I’m thankful I’m not responsible for so much in what happens in this world. Someone else has to figure out immigration, medication, desegregation, litigation, annihilation, legislation, mutilation, repudiation, education, germination, mediation, registration, taxation, investigation, generation, administration, transportation, pollination, flotation, hibernation, interpretation, and so on (…do you really think you’re in control?).

We’re too focused on our own reputation dealing with obligation, fruitation, damnation, cooperation, frustration, hesitation, copulation, visitation, determination, elimination, flirtation, stagnation, frustration, fraternalization, vexation, and so on. Add repetition.

I’m also thankful for forgiveness and grace, knowing that I’m accountable for my part in what I can and cannot control. You should be thankful, too. Life is hard. I don’t know about you, but I worry that I don’t take these things seriously enough …or, as I attempt to do so, I take myself too seriously.

There’s much more to say. Perhaps you’re thankful I’ve run out of room to write more on this subject of thankfulness.

Sometimes I don’t get the time to write. Making the payroll often juggles priorities. Or, if that sounds lame, I’ll come up with some other flimsy excuse. Good writing is work. Frankly, sometimes I’m just lazy.

I am thankful for the times when writing this column is a luxury I still enjoy after all these years and not a chore …when I remember how men and women died to assure this right for you and for me. I’m thankful to write freely in English, rather than in German or Japanese. I thank you for being patient with me, a practicing wordsmith, for giving me some of your time and attention.

This holiday is my very favorite, a season for being thankful. Not thoughtless.