Thanksgiving memories

It was Thanksgiving Day in 1990. I had graduated from college in 1989 and moved to Nevada. The company I was working for part-time in college relocated from Florida to Nevada after I graduated, and they offered me a full-time position if I made the move with them. Being young, I didn't have much money and was rooming with a co-worker who also made the move. It was my first holiday away from my family and I couldn't afford to fly home to spend Thanksgiving with them.

Growing up I learned a lot about cooking on my own, and could find my way around the kitchen fairly well on my own. Of course, Mom was queen when it came to Turkey Day, so I had no idea or clue what to do when it came to the big bird. My roommate was helpless in the kitchen, compiling more empty fast food containers than I thought humanly possible. On the big day there was no question there wouldn't be a home cooked dinner in the offing. So what would two single guys do? Of course, we went to the Las Vegas Hilton Buffet for our Thanksgiving feast. It was my worst Thanksgiving ever.

A few years later, I was back home in Florida working finally in the profession I went to college for. During one of those Thanksgivings, I invited a friend over for Thanksgiving. It was the first time our family ever celebrated the holiday with someone from outside our family. She was a co-worker that I liked a lot, and she was a long way from home herself. Someday I'll tell you more about her. It was extra special for me because I had someone there who I could share both a wonderful meal and a little more of my life than I ever had with anyone else. After dinner and helping clean up, we went for a long walk. It was Florida, so you could do that in November without freezing to death. We walked under the moonlight around the lake, and held hands most of the way. I don't even remember what we talked about during that walk, but I remember it being one of the best times of my life. We got home eventually and watched Home Alone with my mom. She spent the night, her in my bedroom and me on the couch. I thought it was the start of something special which didn't.

My final Thanksgiving memory is from 1999. I was in the process of moving from Colorado to New Hampshire. Yes, I've moved quite a bit around in my life. All of my belongings were in a moving truck, making their way across the country. I was staying at a friends guest house. It was a great place, somewhere I easily would have paid rent to stay in. It was gorgeous at the foothill of the Rocky Mountains. I spent the afternoon cleaning my former apartment, hoping to get all of my security deposit back. I scrubbed, washed, vacuumed, and returned the apartment to pristine condition while listening to the Miami Dolphins lose to the Dallas Cowboys on the radio. As day turned into night, the apartment turned dark and I had cleaned as much as I could see in the fading light. I hadn't eaten all day and was starving. The friends I was staying with had gone out of town for the holiday, but they left a note on the guest house door for me. I ventured into garage, and in the refrigerator they had left me plenty of leftovers to enjoy. Back to the guest house, I went into the kitchen to reheat them and found a bottle of wine to enjoy with my leftovers. They were so good to me. To this day, I don't think leftovers felt so good or tasted so delicious. Even though they were miles away, I never felt alone or so welcome. Oh yeah, the outdoor hot tub bubbling over and steam rising in chilly fall evening was a memorable way to end what could have been a lonesome holiday. They truly are wonderful people and great friends.

Those are few of my unconventional Thanksgivings. As I wait for this years bird to finish, I think about the things that make the holiday. It isn't food, it's the people. They, more than anything else, are what I'm thankful for.