Trauma and Joy: A Thanksgiving Story
By Larry Strauss
Sometimes my students ask me why I became a teacher. No simple answer really. It was a combination of things, probably starting when, though I am three-and-a-half years younger than my brother, I became the older brother. I'm not sure when exactly that happened but by the Thanksgiving of 1966, I was already looking after him.
I was, of course, also looking out for myself and looking out for our cats. I didn't like turkey and so I needed Popeye and Cat there beneath my feet. I came into the kitchen on the morning of Thanksgiving and asked my mother why we didn't celebrate with our entire family. Mother was stuffing the turkey. The oven was preheating behind her, lofting a sour odor of petrified grease and Easy-Off.
"Our family can't all be together," mother said, reaching deep inside the turkey with her big spoon. "My sisters live in Wisconsin and Uncle Bill lives upstate. We don't even have a big enough table anyway. But we have Aunt Lolly and we have Dad and me and you and Andy."
"And Popeye and Cat," I added.
"No!" she shouted, then gathered herself with a smile. "Thanksgiving is for people, dear."
"Why? Why can't cats be there? "I knew Popeye and Cat would crouch beneath my chair and lick my ankles and wait for me to pass whatever I didn't want to eat.
"Larry, you know how Aunt Lolly is. I don't know why you can't understand."
<snip>
It's great! Wonderful ending! :
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/larry-strauss/thanksgiving-disabilities_b_1107521.htmlI usually give holiday stories a wary glance-too schmaltzy for my snarky self.
This one made me laugh out loud and ultimately sniff softly at the end. So no matter what kind of Thanksgiving you have, remember Aunt Lolly and 'the gang.'