Turkey Tradition

There are some things that should never change. The twenty-four hour availability of A Christmas Story during the holidays for cable and satellite television viewers (of which I, for better or worse, do not hold membership), apparently me in grade school (according to yearbook dedications which I can only assume meant nothing since most, if not all, of those instructing me to “never change” also informed me that they loved me like a sister “LYLAS”…which I am starting to seriously doubt, unless they secretly meant a Cinderella step-sister, seeing as I haven’t heard from them since), and my annual Thanksgiving celebration.

Since my cesarean debut onto this earth, I have spent Thanksgiving in or around the city of my birth, St. Louis. I truly believed Judy Garland said it best when she said, “Meet me in St. Louie”….fair or no fair. Whenever my mind would even dabble in the tradition of Thanksgiving and all of its warmth and merriment, it would picture the Gateway to the West. You can only imagine my disappointment, then, when my folks announced that they want to travel for bird consumption this year; they want to come to Springfield.

As if in a cinematic moment, flashes of Thanksgivings’ past ran quickly through my mind. Beautiful table settings, fireplaces, grandma’s pies, and laughing faces all danced across my vision bank waving goodbye. Granted, the fireplace was electric…grandma hasn’t baked pies for several years…and the laughing faces really haven’t gone anywhere. Nevertheless, my perception of tradition was about to change.

Surprisingly, after a brief adjustment period, I found myself getting excited about the opportunity to give back to those who have given for so long; to redefine the Thanksgiving experience. And, almost immediately, the change brought with it other doors of opportunity. As a result of my local presence for the holiday, I have been invited to join my friend and her family the morning of Thanksgiving for the city’s annual Turkey Day Trot. Already, these additional faces have enhanced my day of thanks.

Sheryl Crow once wrote that, “A change would do you good.” And, in most cases, I think she’s right. It’s quite possible that the race finish line on Thanksgiving morning may represent the start of a new tradition. And, for that possibility, I’m truly thankful.