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Just Another Day


Thanksgiving.  Here, we’ll take the day for relaxing, eating and being with friends.  A few will use the day’s closing hours for shopping.  Many of us will give thanks, heartfelt thanks.  There will be memories of loved ones who have crossed to their eternity.  People less fortunate will genuinely be remembered in prayer.  This is the day when an abundance of food is donated to people who know that being well fed can be an ephemeral luxury.  Seeing all the reasons for thanks is hard on this or any day.

At about midnight tonight, here in the central US, the Thanksgiving holiday will officially begin.  At about that same time, daylight will be full over Kabul and in the provinces whose names have become familiar on the nightly news like Kandahar and Helmand.  In such places the sounds of exploding ordnance have often announced the beginning of another day.  The tedious work and critical mission will not take a break.  For the deployed, extra vigilance is the hallmark of most American holidays. 

Morning will have broken and another day begun in Gaza and Tel Aviv.  One prayer is that the cease fire signed today will have held for at least one day.  One day without a small child, Palestinian or Israeli, having to duck and cover is a reason for hope that another such day can follow.  Yes, one day at a time.  If the truce can hold, the sounds of wailing at funerals for souls taken as tokens of war could begin to fade into memory.  Even the folks having dinner at the City Union Mission in Kansas City are safer and more secure than many through our world.

The hospitals and clinics here will try to run with skeleton crews but human folly, foibles and fate will intercede without regard for the holiday.  Some lifetime residents of the Jersey Shore or Staten Island will wake up in FEMA housing.  They’ll spend the day with crowbars pulling moldy sheet rock off of studs that they hope will become the bones of their rebuilt homes.  Volunteers will be there in the aftermath – the time when first responders have left and so much work remains.  Some folks, who are still rebuilding in Joplin or New Orleans, will stop during the day to say a prayer for their east coast brethren. 

In the country formerly known as Burma it will be mid-day when our holiday begins.  On the route from the Far East to the Middle East, this is the place my dad spent World War II building the Burma Road.  A purple heart, malaria and some wonderful stories about the good Burmese people were all he brought home from a place that became the most closed society in the world.  Today, Aung San Suu Kyi’s twenty-one years of house arrest are a fading memory because she leaves her house to walk freely among her people. The Myanmar people welcomed our president and reopened their door.

If it were baseball season, I’d be thankful for mustard on a ball park hot dog.  Since we’re deep into football season, I’ll be thankful for a cold glass of Boulevard’s Pale Ale.  The time for school Christmas programs grows near and I know my grandsons are rehearsing for important roles in the rituals that shape lives.  These stories teach tolerance and responsibility to our kids.  The Country Club Plaza in Kansas City is primed for a celebration by lighting its lights – a tradition that held my mother in awe even in her final three days among us.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day – it is Thursday.  On Thursday, I will again be blessed with gifts beyond my merit and well beyond my ability to recount them.  Greatest among them, though, is family – an amazing group who each give more than they take and hug more than they holler; a group who knows how fortunate we are to have soldiers willing to serve in our name, for our safety in distant and hostile places; while our family hasn’t experienced hunger, they’ve seen the pain it causes and try to feed someone who is; they’re people who sense a call to serve and always search for how; a family blessed and pulled together by one whose needs we haven’t fully figured out; a family made of those whose DNA we share plus all who have simply held our hands; a bunch who laugh and tease but are first to call whenever someone’s in need; they are a generous, free-spirited lot who have great passion for life.

Thanksgiving – Thursday – just another day made up of extraordinary blessings.  Happy Thanksgiving.

--td

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