A Maine Man in Texas

NEWS FROM THE WHINERY

Boy, it's hard to be thankful this year. The economy is in the crapper. The weather is changing for the worse. And, most of all, I'm 3000 miles from my Mom and Dad.

I don't know why this year is any different than the other forty or so Thanksgivings I've been away from my parents home. It just is, somehow.

I think one of the reasons is that I've decided to move back to Maine next year and I'm subconsciously counting the days. I had made this decision earlier this fall after a 'too close for comfort' car accident in San Antonio. This brought into perspective just how vulnerable we were. I have, in my cocky, self centered way, been living under the illusion that I could handle anything that came up. I had done all of the research, make the proper arrangements, and covered all of my bases before and during our sojourn to Mexico. All of my planning was for the care of my wife. Medical care, housing, domestic help, creature comforts, these things I planned for and provided with some success. What I so blindly avoided was the possibility that something could happen to me. I didn't plan for an unthinkable event that would leave me unable to continue being the full time care giver and protector of the person who relies on me for everything.

Another thing that makes me more melancholy this season than in others is the reality that, at 85 years old, my parents have only a few more seasons for me to be with them. It seems strange that I so easily postponed, canceled, ignored, or rationalized away so may holidays during the past few dozen years. And now, seemingly all of a sudden, I need desperately to be with them. I think I'm just lonely. It is discouraging, sometimes, to live in a community where I am the outsider, and knowing that no matter what I do or for how long I live here, I will always be the outsider. The gringo with the exorbitant (by Mexican standards) income without needing to labor. The hombre who doesn't speak Spanish but expects everyone to understand him. How pitiful I sound.

I just realized how selfish I seem, pathetic really. Me, me, me. Well I guess in an essay intended as an expression of feelings the focal point should be the author.

On an up note, we are hosting a Thanksgiving dinner for the people here in Mexico who have become our friends. Our neighbor and landlady and her live-in “friend” will be here. They spent all afternoon taking over the cleaning of our furniture and hanging new flower baskets outside. Also attending is our housekeeper and her two teenage daughters as well as the boyfriend of one of them. This is the group I use to celebrate my milestones. They joined us for my latest birthday and when we went out to a restaurant with our friend, Brian, who came from England for a visit. Yep, that's correct. Two times in two years. (sounding pitiful, again)

Largely because of television, the people here in Mexico know of and understand, at a rudimentary level, what Thanksgiving Day is and what it is meant to celebrate. They see President Obama pardoning a turkey and smile without really knowing the symbolism. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is watched with the same anticipation of Santa's arrival as in the States. The children at the market who want to practice speaking the English they are required to learn tell me how George Washington saved the Indians from the British and that is the true meaning of Thanksgiving. I want to correct them but their story is more interesting than the one I learned when I was their age.

So, later I will roast the Butterball I bought in Texas, candy the carrots with just a hint of chilies , mash up the sweet potatoes with some of the maple syrup we took off the table at the Cracker Barrel restaurant last summer in Fort Worth, and prepare the Pepperidge Farms stuffing mix according to package directions. I'll stuff the celery stalks with cream cheese and olives, plate the pickles and cranberry jelly, and warm the store bought pumpkin pie while we eat. Carolyn and I will know the symbolism of these dishes. And I'll beam as I offer the Thanksgiving blessing for the first time as a minister of God.

And, I'll smile to myself in the awareness that I have so much to be thankful for that I am ashamed for whining so in this essay.

May the blessing of Jesus the Nazarene be upon you and yours today, tomorrow and all of the tomorrows to come. Happy Thanksgiving.

"people should have to pay to go to church and theater should be free"