My Memories of Thanksgivings

Ed and I got married on the day before Thanksgiving 48 years ago in the Logan Temple. We joked at the time that it was so we would always have something to be thankful for in the future.  The one thing I have not been grateful about is that we never go out to dinner for our anniversary because it is always Thanksgiving.

 Thanksgiving has been a special time for us as we remember our years together as well as all the other blessings we give thanks for at this time of years. We have been truly blessed with health, adequate money for our needs, children, grandchildren and one great-grandchild, and opportunities to travel all over the world. The blessings of the gospel are so precious and they enrich our lives and help us appreciate all the other blessings.

Growing up in Bountiful, my dad worked at Hill Field and he always invited military men who had no family to Thanksgiving dinner with us and we always had lots of extended family to eat dinner with us. However, for Ed and I, Thanksgiving dinner has always been a more nuclear family affair.

Part of that is because for over 22 years we lived in the military and never lived near family. So Thanksgiving dinner was just Ed, I and our children. I don’t recall us sharing dinner with friends very often although I am sure we did a few times. It was always more a personal family time.

Another tradition also made our Thanksgivings different--there is a military tradition that the commander always eats dinner with the troops in the mess hall on Thanksgiving Day. So Ed would dress up in his dress blues and we’d go to the mess hall each Thanksgiving Day and eat dinner with Ed’s troops. It was a formal occasion and all Ed’s troops would greet us as we mingled with them.

This was not a fun social occasion, mind you, but a command performance! So Ed wanted his own Thanksgiving dinner afterwards. When we came home from the mess hall I would roast a turkey and make all the fixings for a Thanksgiving Dinner for Ed, I and the children! The first few years I thought he was joking about me making a big Thanksgiving after eating at the mess hall, but he wasn’t—he had to have his own homemade turkey dinner.

Eating at the Mess Hall

As he advanced in rank and we continued to go to dinners with his troops, I couldn’t convince him that THAT dinner was thanksgiving dinner; he insisted that NO—that was duty. Dressing in dress blues and talking politics with all his troops and being on command was NOT Thanksgiving! So I continued to cook a Thanksgiving dinner after enjoying Thanksgiving dinner I had not made in the mess hall.

 Ed loved Thanksgiving. He could feast and feast and watch five days of football. For me it was drudgery! I spent days in the kitchen preparing and cleaning up while everyone else enjoyed the holiday. Ed could not understand why it became my least favorite holiday. Especially during the 20 years I worked full time, I dreaded all the time I worked during my “time off,” cooking and cleaning for Thanksgiving and never got a moment’s rest. I was almost glad it was over and I could get back to my paid job.

Marlowe, My Christmas Baby

There were several times I had a reprieve from cooking a Thanksgiving Dinner. One was when Ed was in Vietnam during his two tours. Both times I was pregnant with our sons. Our first, Marlowe,  was born three weeks after Thanksgiving so I really had a lot to be grateful for; the other was born three months after Thanksgiving. I don’t recall having a big Thanksgiving Dinner with my Dad and siblings in Utah either time.

Ed Leaves for Vietnam Nov 1970

The year Ed left for his 2^nd tour of Vietnam was rough; he left for Vietnam several weeks before Thanksgiving (when I was pregnant with my third child, and my oldest had not yet turned three). I remember I was so overwhelmed and discouraged about being alone with my little ones for a year while Ed was flying helicopters in a war zone. However by Thanksgiving I had realized how grateful I was for all the blessings I did have; I did have the spirit of Thanksgiving that year—thankful for all that I had instead of complaining of what I didn’t have lasted me all year.

Two other times were when I was in the hospital on Thanksgiving. One time I was in Alabama and had just had a mastectomy and was recovering, but still in the hospital. My brother Gary and his wife Patty had Thanksgiving with my family at home (I have no idea who made dinner). I was just so grateful they caught the breast cancer early. The other time I was in the hospital in Sacramento, and again my brother Gary and Patty came to share Thanksgiving with my family. I was/am grateful for family who support us in our trials. 

Eventually I realized how petty I was in resenting all the work involved in preparing a big Thanksgiving dinner. I also realized I was always going to be cooking a big Thanksgiving dinner, so I cut back in many ways, and enjoyed the season. Ed helped by preparing the potatoes (one of my most hated jobs) and made his favorite recipe, sweet potatoes. I have bought the pies, instead of killing myself making them. I’ve bought rolls, (who cares if they are not homemade), and often cooked a turkey breast rather than a whole turkey. I’ve even bought salads. But I refuse to compromise on one thing; I refuse to make stovetop stuffing instead of the real thing.

After we retired from the military and moved back to Utah, we joined in with my dad and the extended family again in large Thanksgiving dinners, but again, Ed still wanted his own roasted turkey at home so he could have leftovers. So often we would go to a big extended family feast and afterwards, we would come home and I would put in a turkey. Since my dad passed away, we haven’t had the large extended family dinners, and again it just had dinner with whichever of our married children and their families lived nearby, and Bryan.

Ed reading to Aiden, Thanksgiving 2010 in Chicago

Last year we did something we have never done in all 48 years; we flew to Chicago to spend dinner with Diana, Jason and her new baby, Aiden in Chicago. It was truly the first year I can remember I did not roast a turkey. We left Bryan in Utah so he ate Thanksgiving dinner with friends and with Athena’s family. [The last eighteen months  we have “abandoned” Bryan for every holiday in the year (plus two of his birthdays) while we were in Los Angeles for Ed’s lung transplant, in Australia and New Zealand, in Chicago with Diana, and in Seattle with Marlowe and his family. Don’t feel sorry for him, though; he had four different invitations for Thanksgiving when he publicized he was alone for Thanksgiving and didn’t mention Athena being here]. 

Although I have quit griping about always roasting a turkey no matter where we have Thanksgiving dinner (except for last year at Diana’s house in Chicago), I realize how grateful I am for all our bountiful blessings—material, spiritual and emotional. I am grateful for my family, being able to be together as a family at Thanksgiving and if we cannot be together then, being able to talk to them often; being able to have all we have to eat, even if I have to cook it. I am grateful that they all have jobs; that we live in a free world. 

And someday, before I die, I am going to thoroughly enjoy Thanksgiving like men do—by not preparing any of it, and just relaxing and doing what I want all day! 

Thoughts on Veteran's Day

World War I officially ended when the Treaty of Versailles was signed on June 28, 1919; however, because the fighting of “The Great War” ceased with an armistice that went into effect on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, of 1918, this date is generally regarded as the end of the “War to end all wars.” When President Wilson proclaimed November 11 1919 as the first commemoration of what would become first Armistice Day, and later Veteran’s Day, this day was to be “filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory.”

Whenever I think of Veteran’s Day, I think of all the veterans of all the wars who have fought to keep our country free—from the Revolutionary War soldiers to those fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. I think, too of the victories that have preserved our freedoms, both in war, in law, in elections—all of these help to make us free.

As a member of an Army family for 23 years, I have seen many instances that have made me feel patriotic. I have seen many military parades where my heart has swelled with pride in our fine soldiers. I have seen my Air Force flyovers when I realized how grateful I was for those proud aviators who trained and served in far off bases. I have seen scenes on television of armed forces fighting and dying on foreign soil. All of these remind me of the price our soldiers pay for our country.

I also recall times when I have seen individual incidences of respect for our country. I remember going to a movie theater on a military base at Livorno in Northern Italy, and as usual, the Star Spangled Banner played as the flag was displayed on the screen before the regular movie. Everyone in the theater stood and saluted or put their hand on their heart except a bunch of teenagers who were goofing off and being disrespectful. My husband went over to them and told them to stand up and be respectful to the flag, and to those who were fighting for their freedom. They were more respectful after that. It was such a small thing, but I remember how proud I was of my country, and my flag at that moment . The simple act of standing at attention while our national anthem played while we watched a movie on a military base reminded me of the freedoms I took for granted that our soldiers serving in that nation, far from family and friends, did not take for granted. 

My son, Marc, said that he will always remember how proud he was of his dad at that time for reminding those youth how important it is to respect our national anthem and our flag, even in such an informal setting as a movie theater.  He sent me an email saying that the incident was one that "I have written down as one of the defining moments of my life.  It made me realize the importance of standing up for what you believe and hold dear, whether it be respect for our country, or our religious beliefs.  It takes courage; I hope I can have Dad's courage to stand up for what I believe." 

I remember another time while we were stationed on that Italian base. There were international tensions, and our country dropped some bombs on Libya. Libya couldn’t bomb America, so instead they attacked some Italian islands they could reach. It was a tempest in a teapot, but some Italian politicians became angry against America. As civilians we knew nothing that morning, but as our teenage son walked through the Italian villaggio on the way to school, an old Italian woman swore at him and spit on him. Our son had been told not to walk to school because of the incidence (and had done it anyway). After being spit on, he went home, got his boombox, loaded the tape, “I’m Proud to Be an American” in it and played it loudly all the way to school. By that afternoon all students were bussed to and from school with soldiers with M-16s on the buses as escorts to prevent problems.

There were anti-American protests outside the base so it was closed to all but Americans. Mormon missionaries were told to stop wearing their name tags and to stop proselyting temporarily because they were a symbol of America. Eventually everything blew over and became normal again, but it reminded us how really free we are in America. I am grateful for those soldiers all over the world who live in places where it isn’t always easy to live as an American so the rest of us Americans can enjoy our freedoms.

I remember my first experience with the military when I first joined Ed at Ft. Wolters, Texas while my husband was going through flight school. I lived in a tiny apartment on the reactivated base and every morning I heard reveille play at 5:00 am. I couldn’t hear where it was coming from and at first I wondered if it was ghostly music from World War II when Ft. Wolters was for a time the largest infantry replacement training center in the United States. Eventually I realized my mistake, but it reminded me of all the soldiers who had passed through Ft. Wolters on the way to first World War II, and now on their way to Vietnam.  How many of these soldiers who passed through Ft. Wolters lived and how many died? How many who heard the same haunting sounds of that reveille as I did, died during their army tours?

Unfortunately, the Armistice signed on the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month in 1918 did not end all wars. The Americans still fighting on foreign shores need our support whether we support the wars they are fighting or not. Veteran’s Day this year on 2011 is a day set aside to honor all America's veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good. 

The original proclamation suggested that some ways to commemorate Veteran’s Day would be:

·         with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace   through good will and mutual understanding between nations;

·         with parades and public meetings and a brief suspension of business beginning at 11:00 a.m.;

·         with the display of the flag of the United States on all Government buildings;

·         with inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches, or other suitable places, with appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.

How each of us remembers the service of these veterans is an individual decision. How will YOU commemorate Veteran’s Day this year?