Well, I made it through the first Thanksgiving without Janet but not without her help.
At this time last year she was finishing radiation treatment and was beginning to feel somewhat better. We spent Thanksgiving with our son and a couple who have an extremely pleasant disposition. No one could spend a few hours with them without going away feeling the world was a better place than anyone ever thought. We went to a Southern cooking establishment that always has turkey and dressing on the menu.
This year my son had to work and my friends had family visiting, so I went to the home of a church friend who was hosting a big gathering. I sat next to a gentleman who had lost his long-time lady friend year. We had more than that in common. We had both grown up in small Texas towns in the segregation era and we shared stories of how we survived to have a broader view of human beings on this planet. The next day my son had off, so we went to the Southern cooking place for our holiday dinner, but we both agreed it wasn’t the same without Mom. Saturday I went to another large gathering with writer friends. I sat across from my couple with the lovely dispositions. Next to me was a poet who has altogether too much appreciation of his gifts to the world.
My friend across the table, with his usual twinkle in his eye, asked of the three of us gentlemen sitting there, who was the oldest and the smartest.
I replied quickly, “I’ll concede I’m the youngest and the dumbest.”
The poet look at me seriously. “I think I agree with you.”
That, of course, put me off my mashed potatoes and gravy immediately. Then I heard Janet’s gentle, wise voice remind me:
“I don’t know why you’re letting that bother you. You know that he’s an idiot.”