I’m in the throes of my annual bout with laryngitis. Unfortunately we have yet to have really cold weather to kill off whatever allergen is responsible for my yearly froggy voice. I can’t recall ever enduring weak vocal chords on Thanksgiving Day but thus it was yesterday. The timing was most unfortunate because I had the opportunity to converse with relatives in a marathon of conversation. My swollen larynx let me down. By the end of our big family celebration I had become a fly speck on the wall by default, simply listening to whatever everyone had to say. When I tried to talk I was only able to muster a creak or a croak. In a strange twist of fate my affliction lead to one of those profound serendipitous moments of reflection when a kind of pleasant epiphany overtakes the brain.
I found myself simply watching and listening to the chorus of conversations and activities taking place all around my brother’s house. At first I heard only a cacophony of sounds but as I earnestly settled into observation mode I began to sense the harmony of love filling the corners and the rooms. My extended family is a diverse bunch to say the least. My sister-in-law was born in China but grew up in Taiwan with her siblings who have become as much a part of my family as they would have if we were connected by blood. All of my nieces and nephews were there along with their children. I noted a range of skin hues that went from a lovely dark olive to a milky complexion festooned with freckles. The eyes of those present were mostly brown just as mine are but a few among us boasted lovely shades of blue much like my grandmothers had. My sister-in-law and her siblings wore dark bountiful heads of thick healthy hair and those who carry the more European genes had lovely golden blonde curls. Continue reading “Lemon and Honey”
For most of us in the United States of America this is a wonderful time of year. We pause from our routines for a time to gather with family and friends to express our thanks. Loved ones travel from near and far to be together. We feast on traditional recipes and let our diets lapse for a bit. All across our nation there will be hugs exchanged, stories told, sounds of laughter filling the air. We will stop just long enough from our labors to remember what is truly important in our lives and to show our gratitude for the blessings that we enjoy.
I woke up yesterday morning and discovered water leaking from the upstairs bathroom into the kitchen pantry. Of course I was angry. Mike turned off the water to the toilet and the drip, drip, drip stopped but it took well over an hour to remove all of the sodden items from the shelves that were now damp. A few days before Thanksgiving is hardly the time for a plumbing emergency but we have become all too familiar with making desperate calls for help during this past year. Obviously we’ll have to bite the bullet and take the unwanted and untimely expense on the chin. I might not even be thought too selfish if I were to complain a bit and feel somewhat sorry for myself. After all everyone understands how aggravating such an experience can be.
I love this time of year and as I drive back into my old neighborhood to tutor students I have a sense of deja vu. I remember a time my mother and I would prepare for the holidays by cooking and baking up a storm. By the end of our labors we would have a stack of tins filled with luscious delights to share with friends and family who invariably dropped by to wish us well.
Birthdays are a special gift in and of themselves. There is something breathtaking about making it to another milestone even when the road there may have been a bit rough. It’s one of those days when the greetings prove that you are never really alone. There is more love in your life than you may ever imagine. Birthdays are a time when you realize that you are probably a great deal tougher than you may have thought, especially when you get into the higher numbers that indicate that you are one of the senior members of society. 
All It Takes Is A Little Love 