The leaves from the last tree to ignore fall’s advance have fallen, hiding the green grass that had been raked clean of the other trees’ contributions. The gray skies of morning have passed. Blue skies overhead, sunshine now warms the afternoon.

Stepping into the house, my nose is embraced by the telltale aromas of Thanksgiving. Nothing like a turkey in the oven, joined by the stuffing and sweet potatoes.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, defined by family, feasting, gratitude — and always an undercurrent of sadness. Everything which makes me grateful reminds me of those who are not as fortunate, who face challenges that should be erased on this special day. If only.

And on this day of tradition, I remember those who should be here but aren’t: loved ones, no longer living, who shaped my life and gave so many Thanksgivings the fond memories I now carry.

At times, I can almost feel the transcendence of life, the deep connection that links me to our shared humanity. Thanksgiving usually provides a palpable moment or two, amidst the clatter of dishes and conversation.

The call comes to carve the turkey. Let the feasting begin. And may transcendence envelop us all.


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