Thank You, Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is a holiday steeped in tradition in the United States. In my family we are pretty consistent with our Thanksgiving rituals and traditions. Macy’s parade on TV, traditional meal, American football on TV, and a nap.
One common tradition we have not done is saying the things for which we are thankful before we have our dinner. I think it is because we are hungry. We have waited a full year to have these foods, and we have been teased by the aromas coming from the kitchen all day.
As a side note, did you know you can buy the ingredients for green bean casserole all year round? Same is true for pumpkin spice anything. Who knew? Anyway…
Since my diagnosis with Parkinson’s I try to express gratitude in the moment. Yesterday, as I prepared what I would take to the family feast, I realized that there are a few unexpressed things for which I am grateful. I would like to share them with you now.
I am grateful for a dull set of knives. If my tremor causes the knife to slip, my fingers and hands get bruised, not cut. Sure, the tomatoes in the salad are crushed, and the turkey is not sliced as much as it is shredded, but no one wants my DNA in their green bean casserole. Thank you, dull knives.
Also, I am grateful for that one cup of coffee. When preparing for a large meal I start first thing in the morning. The first thing I do is make a cup of coffee, drink a few sips, and set it down on the kitchen counter. It’s stays there forgotten until mid morning when I start to feel something is missing in my life. Caffeine. I find the cup, heat it up, drink several sips and then set it on the counter by the sink. By early afternoon, as I place the green bean casserole in the oven, fatigue sets in. A combination of Parkinson’s fatigue and working in a hot, messy kitchen means I need a little push. I see that half-full cup of coffee sitting by the sink. I do not hesitate to drink every remaining drop without even heating it up. Thank you, one cup of coffee.
Finally, in a strange way I find myself thankful for Parkinson’s. Don’t get me wrong it still sucks. Because of Parkinson’s I have nurtured my love of painting and writing. I am more humble as a result of the loss of control of my own body. Parkinson’s has brought me closer to friends and family, as we navigate this living with Parkinson’s thing. Through this blog I have a network of real life and online friends who are generous and supportive by sharing their experiences and being open to mine.
Thank you everyone who has read, commented, liked, followed or otherwise reached out since I started What’s Shaking Man earlier this year. You give me the strength and inspiration to keep living and laughing with Parkinson’s
Happy Thanksgiving!
