"We must find the time to stop and thank the people who have 

made a difference in our lives."

--John F. Kennedy

It's Thanksgiving week.  

This is a week that I always look forward to for a variety of reasons.  As a middle school band director, I would have the entire week off from work, which was great.  For the past 18 years, working at the college, I have worked a few day during the week, but classes don't meet, so it's always a nice break from instruction and rehearsal.  Plus, I like to take some time and look back over the semester and look at what I've accomplished, what the Ensemble has accomplished, what my kids have accomplished. It's a time of reflection.  

This week is also a time of family.  The kids are out of school and are at home.  This year is somewhat unusual as Grant is at Camp Geiger completing infantry school and Jack has lived in Pensacola since August, but he's home as of this writing, and it's really nice to have him at home for a few days. 

Of course, there is also the Thanksgiving meal.  I mean, who doesn't love turkey and dressing?? Well, Frank Shaffer doesn't like dressing, so Jeremie makes stuffing for him.  But other than him!! LOL.  Oh, and cranberry sauce.  And dumplings.  And sweet potatoes.  And everything else!  It's just grand!

But above all this, Thanksgiving always makes me think of my Aunt Doris and Uncle Lloyd Langham.   

Always! 

My mom had four aunts: Mary, Doris, Abbie, and Ruby.  There were actually five, but the oldest (after my granny) died when she was 12.  Mom was closest to Doris, and so every year, when the invitation came to drive down to Bay Minette, we always went.  I still remember counting train cars as the trains would pass by between Atmore and Bay Minette.  One time we counted over 150 cars in one train. 

I can still remember the house where they lived.  It was a grayish-blue, on the right side of the road as we approached it, and it had a carport on the back.  You always entered the house from the carport and immediately in front of you when you walked in was a white freezer, over which were a couple of Lloyd's guns--a rifle and a shotgun, I seem to recall.  Two steps up from that level, and you were at the dining room/kitchen.  To your left was a small den which also was a step up.  

In that den, there were two recliners, on either side of the door, as well as a couch and a television, and on that television, on Thanksgiving day, was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Uncle Lloyd was usually in the chair on the left, if my memory serves me correctly, and he was always smiling.  Always.  

Doris and Lloyd had one son, John.  John and his wife Jamie, and their daughters Janet and Kathryn, and later on Susan and Mary would be there also.  I remember Janet was enough older than me that we didn't really play together, and Kathryn was way too fast for any of us to catch her playing hide and seek. John was a math teacher and like most of the men descended from Oscar Brown (my great-grandfather), he was very tall.  Mom always admired how smart he and Jamie both were.  She also taught math.  They would later go on to work for Faulkner Community College, now Coastal Alabama, part of the system I work for now.  Small world, huh?  

Lloyd had been a butcher and always had an awesome garden and he'd send things back with us.  He had a genuine heart and was a giver. Aunt Doris had owned a salon and I remember her reminding me of my mom's sister Laura: full of sass.  I guess Laura got it from her.  LOL.  I also remember my mom sitting at the table talking with Doris and laughing for what seemed like forever.  I think mom saw her as a mother figure.  

The food was always delicious and it seems like we'd stay til shortly after lunch, and then we'd drive 31/29 back to Andalusia.  Back to the house where the four of us lived.  Back to my small, little world on Perry Street.  Back to reality.  

Several years later, in 2019 to be specific, I was driving my motorcycle home from Gulf Shores.  For whatever reason, I decided to try to find that house where I spent so many Thanksgivings.  I messaged Kathryn and she gave me the address, and a few minutes later, there it was.  It's no longer in the family, but it's still there.  I parked my bike in the street and just looked at it.  And remembered.  I remembered faces.  I remembered memories.  And I was thankful.  

I was thankful that someone included us.  Standing there, 47 years old, having lived through enough stuff to understand what life is really about, I was mature enough to appreciate family.  I was old enough to appreciate inclusivity.  I was mature enough to see what REALLY happened each time they invited us down for lunch.  Lloyd and Doris were showing compassion.  They were sharing what they had with us.  They were being FAMILY.  It is only now that I'm a parent myself, that I can truly appreciate someone looking out for a single mom and three small children they way they did.   I never got to thank them for their kindness, but I do thank them.  I appreciate it more than I can say.  

When we share what he have with others, we are sharing more than things.  We are sharing more than food.  We are sharing more than clothes.  We are sharing ourselves.  We are making a connection.  We are drawing closer.  We form community by sharing, and if there is anything this world needs more of, it is community.  

I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving.  Share something with someone if you get a chance.  Invite someone into your home, even if Covid restrictions suggest you shouldn't.  You never know when someone will be blogging about you 40 years later, thanking you for having done so.  

God Bless.