FAMILY

"First we love our parents, then we get to know them; hardly ever do we forgive them" Oscar Wilde

I may be jumping the gun here, like many stores in NY, but I felt the need to write about Thanksgiving before the end of September.

I was not raised in America, so the fine custom of celebrating Thanksgiving, came to me in a rather sideways manner. My sister attended an American Middle & High School for girls and there, just like here, much was made of the tradition. I can not say I remember much of what she relayed was the history and background of the day. What did catch my attention was the name itself, and even more so, the unusual meal her and her classmates got to have on the day. Turkey? Yums? Candied beans? Cranberry Sauce???
Rather exotic foods and combinations for a little Greek kid.
We had, of course, our own traditions that went well with particular kinds of meals and rituals, so the idea in itself, was certainly not foreign.
But back to the name: Thanks Giving.
I thought it was absolutely delightful that some people far, far away, dedicated a whole day to giving thanks. I personally thought, it was quite the gap in our practices, and could not imagine why we did not celebrate with them, or even globally!

Gathering with one's family, sharing great homemade food and taking a whole day to acknowledge, appreciate and vocalize the reasons why you are thankful was a practice to be repeated. Preferably more than once a year. Then I remembered how taxing and strenuous, often tense, if not volatile, some of those gatherings tended to be and thought better than suggest my family started to participate in yet another Holiday.

I heard once that you can always tell a person who had a happy childhood. I happen to agree. In my experience, children from happy homes, tend to be at ease with life, jolly, sociable and well adjusted.
For the most of us-and I am taking a leap of faith here, as I have no statistics to back that 'most" with- it is a more complicated story.
There are as many kinds of childhood experiences as there are people on this planet. Their indelible and often highly subjective memories, haunt, motivate, inspire and altogether alter, if not set the tone, for our adult lives. Like most people I know, I have varying degrees of affection for the members of my family, both immediate and extended. A mixed bag of positive and negative memories, conditioning and opinions about who they are and what they mean to me. I have been away for so long, and possibly because of the physical distance, some of them have taken on mythical proportions; others have faded into the background of my life; and everything in between.

One thing I know for sure: All of the people I call 'family" are intrinsically entwined in the very fabric of my being. They constitute the collective first impressions of interaction with other human beings. Their voices, scents, images, stories and actions are and always will be part of the tapestry of my experience. As such I understand and accept that I can not possibly reject, qualify or categorize them, any more than I can do the same of the many facets of the person I call 'me'.

I do, however, feel a deep connection to and affection for our union. Gratitude for all the things they are and everything they do. Pride for having known them intimately and joy that I am a part of an interesting cast of characters. Even the ones that I find difficult to swallow with my Christmas roast!

PS: After enjoying several superbly prepared Thanksgiving dinners, I would like to give thanks to the Rector of St. Thomas church and his wife, for providing me for many years with a family with which to celebrate what would otherwise be a cold day in November.