I DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD BE SO HARD: Reflections on a Covid Thanksgiving

I didn't think it would be so hard.  I thought I could do a quiet Thanksgiving. I did all right for a while. And, then, without warning, the melancholy set in. All it took was the placing of two (and only two) plates on the table for me to become sad.  Very sad.  

I think I have tolerated the pandemic pretty well.  I am good at entertaining myself.  I like to spend time alone.  Sure, there have been bad days, but it wasn't until Thursday that the loss of human connection due to the pandemic really hit home. 

I don't usually like big gatherings - I prefer to take people one-by-one or, at most, a handful at a time.  But Thanksgiving - Thanksgiving is different.  It is my favorite holiday.  No presents - just lots of food and a jigsaw puzzles and beloved people.

This year we had the food and the puzzle, but there was no need to set up a card table for the puzzle--it fit just fine on the dining room table.

Sitting there, just the two of, it felt like my husband and I were surrounded by ghosts.  Yes, we said our gratitudes, and there was and is plenty to be thankful for.  But, then we found ourselves naming those who have sat around the dining room table over the years - always some combination of our kids and their families, extended family, friends, even ex-spouses.  (They are always family when you have kids together.)

And then there was the fact that we had to do all of the cooking.  In recent years, Mara, my youngest, has taken over the kitchen while I have followed her around doing dishes.  And those who have joined us have always made contributions to the groaning table.  

Even in years when we have not hosted at Thanksgiving, we have always spent it with others.  Never alone. 

And, yes, I know, that many have suffered much greater losses. There are those who have lost loved ones or jobs or homes to the pandemic.  There are those who live alone and are unable for a variety of reasons to get together outside with others for a walk or a visit.  There are those who can't visit loved ones in hospitals or nursing homes.  There are also exhausted health care workers who are putting their lives on the line for us every day, even as people refuse to wear masks and insist on gathering. 

So, on this day, two days after Thanksgiving, with Christmas just a few weeks away, I offer thanks for health and friends and family and a warm and comfortable home.  And I pray that we will find a way to come together as a nation to take care of those who are suffering the most during this challenging time. 

ON KINDLY UNCLES AND BREAKING GLASS CEILINGS

Ok, I'll admit it.  Biden wasn't my first choice.  And yet I have spent the last 24 hours awash with joy and relief.  Here's the thing.  I have come to believe that Joe Biden is just the kindly uncle we need right now. Sure, he knows his way around the White House and has lots of experience working across the aisle and, sure, he will work on the issues that matter to me - addressing climate change, striving to make  the American dream available to those who have been left out and left behind, getting everyone health care, conquering the virus.  But, really, the best thing about him might just be his avuncular manner.  

Yes, that comes with him telling long-winded stories about his youth and, well, being old.  But, so what?  He isn't unhinged.  He won't be throwing tantrums in the White House.  He won't be calling women pigs.  He won't be calling Mexicans rapists.  He won't be whining and poor-me-ing when he doesn't get his way.  

We all have a crazy uncle or grandfather or friend.  The one who comes to Thanksgiving dinner and won't shut up about every divisive or embarrassing topic he can come up with.  Or the one that comes to the White House and stays for four years.  

We have traded in that crazy uncle for a sane one, one who will at least try to calm things down and bring us together.  And that would have been enough for me today.

But there's more.  He has invited a woman, a Black and Asian woman, for Thanksgiving dinner.  And to the White House.  

People - I am a nearly-71-year-old woman who did not think she would live to see this day.  Women's suffrage was not quite 30 years old the year I was born.  The idea of a woman in the White House was not even on my radar during my childhood.  Men were Presidents.  Women were homemakers.

It took second-wave feminism to make the idea seem plausible, although it soon became clear that there would be many obstacles thrown in the path of female candidates.  I watched Shirley Chisholm run in 1970 and cheered for Geraldine Ferraro in 1984.  But, after Hillary's defeat in 2016, and listening to Trump and Pence express their troglodyte views of women in front of cheering crowds, I figured we wouldn't be seeing a woman in the White House any time soon.  

So, today, I celebrate not just the repudiation of mean-spiritedness and purposeful divisiveness, I celebrate the first female Vice President. The first woman of color to serve in that role. 

Last night, I had tears in eyes as I listened to Kamala Harris.  Women my age have waited a very long time for this day.  Today, my daughters and granddaughters have a role model. And little black and brown girls can look at the White House and see someone who looks like them.  

The 1950s called and we said, uh uh, we aren't going back.

So, tomorrow we can resume the hard work of making this an America for all Americans.  Today, let's pause to rejoice. 

                        Gif by Kaho Yoshida