Thanksgiving Reminisce

a lonely Thanksgiving story

 “Wake up papa.”  Windy shook the old man gently.

“Wake up papa , it’s time for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Huh?  Huh?... Oh.  Why do I go to sleep in this chair!?  You’re drugging me to sleep.”

“Oh papa.  It’s your pain meds, is all. 

“Oh how wonderful for you.  I see you have thirty six email greetings.”

“one hundred two.”

“What?” She was confused.

“I sent one hundred two.”

“I see you have some cards.” Wendy tried to distract him from he computer.

The old man rose to the bait.  “That’s from my grandson Sam.  I have two, you know.  And one step grandson.”

Wendy smiled and picked up the other card.  “Who’s Emma?”

“Oh? Emma’s one of five granddaughters and two step granddaughters,.  We were always close.”

“ Will she join you for dinner today?”

He looked out the window and fought back a pressure that threatened to make the moisture in his eyes into tears.

 

Wendy busied herself straightening up the little table beside his chair. After a few moments, “Well looks like we’re ready.  Let’s head on down.”  She helped him into his wheelchair. 

“I want to wash up.”  When the door was shut, he leaned on the sink and looked into the mirror.  The tears rolled down and he diluted them splashing water into his face.  Finally he got control.  “I’m ready.”

She opened the door and backed him out.

He made himself compliment and smile.  “Morning Bob. Beautiful day Tom.  You look real fine today, Joan.” He leaned over and kissed Millie on the forehead.  She raised her head.  Her eyes said ‘Thank you’ but her stroke-distorted face didn’t move.

He noted that most had family visiting.  He greeted each, forgot their names immediately, and finally signaled Millie to move him along.  

The cafeteria was crowded with extra tables.  She rolled him up to a small one in the corner.  He looked out at the visitors, mostly uncomfortable and wishing they were somewhere else, just like their loved ones.  

“Here you go, hon.”  The server set down his plate, didn’t meet his eye, and moved on to another table.  he wouldn’t eat the dark meat, the fat, or the burnt dry dressing.  He sipped his juice and closed his eyes.

The noisy room faded.  He traveled back to a favorite Thanksgiving Dinner.  Children were laughing, his large family all busy and smiling, and there was more good food and dessert that anyone could eat.  Tears pressed out from under his closed lids.