Quote for the Week

Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving. ~W.T. Purkiser

Here Come the Holidays

Thanksgiving already? How did it sneak up on us? Actually it didn't; it came with a bang. The day after jack o'lanterns and witches vanished from the shelves, Santas and Christmas ornaments appeared. Within a few days the malls were decorated and Christmas carols were playing. Too early for me, when our Houston thermometers were still pushing ninety. One of these years they'll probably start Christmas on July 5.

By the time the holidays arrive, we're innured to them. Or we're depressed from all the messages that say, "Be joyful! Celebrate!"

Being joyful and celebratory is tough in the widowsphere. The holidays don't feel right any more, with your spouse missing. No one to gripe to about the high prices and crowded stores, no one to share a glassw of egg nog with in front of the fire. Even with people around, we feel alone.

It's normal to feel sorry for ourselves in the midst of other people's merriment. I'm pretty sure it's okay to cry and to have a long (one-sided) conversation with our absent spouses. But we might also want to add a thank-you for all the good times we had together and a promise not to ever forget them.

Since Ralph died, I've spent my Thanksgiving Days with my daughter-in-law's warm and welcoming family. It's not the same. The turkey isn't a Ralph-cooked one and his jalapeno dressing is missing. But I do have fun, and this year my granddaughter's birthday, the 26th, is the next day so we'll be celebrating that, too. I wish her Popo could see how she's grown; she's a feisty 12-year-old, still as chatty as ever, who makes videos with her American Girl dolls and has 1000 subscribers on YouTube (Eat your heart out, Nana.) She's made the leap to middle school. No boyfriends yet, although she confesses she's been asked. Ralph would be proud of her. She was the last person he asked to see before he died, and his doctor made special arrangements so he could leave the transplant floor and say goodbye to her.

This year I'm thankful for my family and friends, for the work that still fulfills me (How can anything be more satisfying than teaching a child to talk?), for my two cuddly cats, for learning new things, and for making it through to another Thanksgiving.

And to all my friends in cyberspace, may you stay upbeat during the holidays and think of the good things in your lives.

With love and thanks, Thelma Z

Gabriella

Facebook | Thelma Zirkelbach

Thanksgiving was a beautiful, clear fall day. The morning felt peaceful. I baked and read The Handmaid's Tale for my book club. Hadn't read it in years but I love it.

Dinner was at my daughter-in-law's sister's house. It was a noisy family gathering with lots of good food and nine (yes, nine) pies. And best of all, it was my granddaughter Gabriella's 11th birthday. She was born on Thanksgiving Day. We went to the hospital soon after her mom went into labor and I thought I would never do this, but I stayed in the room for the birth and had the joy of seeing her whoosh into the world, with a crop of black hair and huge brown eyes.

She was so dear to Ralph. One of his last wishes was to see her one more time. He was on the bone marrow transplant floor at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center and no children are allowed, but his wonderful doctor arranged for him to go downstairs in a wheelchair. It was a sweet but heartbreaking moment to see them together for the last time. When we went back to the floor, he said, "I hope she won't forget me."
I repeated this to Gabriella a year or so after he died, and she said, "How could I forget Popo? I loved him. If I could have one wish, I'd wish for him to come back to you."

Please, please click on the link to Facebook above. You'll see a video of Gabriella singing a song she dedicated to her granddad.

See you in seven.

Thanksgiving 2

Sign I saw at a shopping center today: Do the math. Count your blessings. Hard to do when widowhood is new but worth a try.

And here's a neat way to do that. In Parade Magazine today there was an article by Jonathan Franzen, author of Everything is Illuminated, in which he talked about his childhood Thanksgiving dinners at his grandmother's home. She put a handful of popcorn kernels on everyone's plate. During the meal as each person thought of something he or she was thankful for, they'd take a kernel from their plate and silently put it in the middle of the table. By the end of the meal there'd be a whole pile of popcorn kernels enumerating everyone's blessings.

Today I'm listing two of my standard Thanksgiving dishes:

Strawberry Perfection Salad (Both my sister and I make this every year for our respective dinners)
2 pkgs. strawberry jello dissolved in 1 1/2 cups boiling water
10 oz. pkg. frozen strawberries with juice
3 whipped bananas
1 small can crushed pineapple with juice
1/2 pint sour cream

Mix first 5 ingredients and pour half into mold which has been lightly oiled. Chill until firm. Spread sour cream over this layer, then add cooled remainder of strawberry mixture by spooning over sour cream. Refrigerate 1 1/2 hours.

Spinach Casserole (My daughter's Mom-it's-not-Thanksgiving-without-this dish)
2 pkgs. frozen chopped spinach
1/2 pint sour cream
1 medium can mushrooms
1 can artichoke hearts, sliced

Cook and drain spinach. Add sour cream and mushrooms. Put half of mixture into a buttered casserole. Slice artichoke hearts and put on top. Top with rest of spinach mixture. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes.

Enjoy! And please don't spend the holiday alone!

See you in seven

Stumbling Through the Holidays

Holidays are tough. Thanksgiving is especially hard for me. It was the premier holiday of our year. Although I made sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, spinach casserole and dessert, Ralph always cooked the turkey and dressing, including his own recipe for jalapeno dressing (which I avoided like the plague). At dinner, everyone would chorus, "This is the best turkey you've eeeverr made," and he would grin like a fool.

Further back, I remember the Thanksgivings of my Austin childhood: big family gatherings, sometimes with soldiers stationed at nearby bases, the Texas-Texas A&M game and the UT Tower glowing orange against the night sky after a Longhorn victory.

I'm fortunate that my children live in town. Now I celebrate Thanksgiving with my daughter-in-law's family. Different home, different table. That makes it easier.

I've kept my husband's message on the answering machine, and at the end of the day I dial our number to hear his voice on a special day. Then I shed a few tears in private.

What else works? Starting a new ritual, inviting friends to dinner who haven't shared past Thanksgivings may help. Or if you can't manage cooking, going out with others who are alone is a good idea (even though restaurant turkey isn't the same as home-cooked). Spending the day volunteering at a facility that feeds the homeless may make you feel needed. If your church or synagogue sponsors a Thanksgiving dinner, go. Make a list of things you're thankful for; you'll surprise yourself that even when you're grieving, there are many things to appreciate--the support of friends, the lovely fall colors, the sound of a child's laughter.

The one thing you probably shouldn't do is be alone. Sharing, even if you're sharing loneliness, really does help.