When you begin to read this column, realize that it’s only nine short days until Thanksgiving — the official kickoff of the holiday season — arrives. When Thanksgiving passes, we will all have to buckle up as we cruise into finals week and Christmas break.
When you’re a nostalgic person like me, and start to ponder the upcoming holidays, it normally means fading back into the memories of yesteryear for a glimpse of what this season may bring.
Sticking to tradition
Every Thanksgiving over the past few years has ended up the same for me, and it’s something I quite enjoy. My family goes to our longtime family friends’ house, the Kopra’s. As much as some things change, sometimes things stay quite the same.
After the usual family tradition of over-eating, Jake, my best friend, gets sick, lies down, and goes to sleep. Over the years, his two cousins (whom I’ve adopted as my cousins as well), have grown up from infants to wonderful girls – one of whom is now in junior high.
Usually, I end up as the designated babysitter. Being an only child and never having experienced the daily fun of little ones, I’m always more than ready to hold a crying baby or help cut up food for a toddler. It’s a wonderful experience.
So there I am, holding a baby, Jake’s asleep on the couch, and the Detroit Lions squander away another game on national television. We then play the usual corny family games, more people fall asleep, and I drive myself home to conjure up my Thanksgiving blog (when you’re a journalist, sometimes you do some really lame things.)
Exploring a new side
However, last year brought different circumstances that will forever affect our Thanksgivings. While Jake and I will still find time to talk about sports (he could very easily be drafted by an MLB team one day, the way I see it), college and girls, our appreciation for greater things in life has grown immensely.
Five of my friends chose to go to Christian universities and are dedicated to learning the Bible. Now, we find ourselves discussing the wonderful things God is doing, the painful walk of life, and the exciting things God has set in our paths. Conversations mean a lot more these days — so do hugs, holding children, and watching the rain pitter-patter against the car windshield as I drive home.
The older we get, I pray that the smaller things start to matter more and more. I would hate to see us squander our lives by focusing on the big corporate picture, only to be on our deathbed and yearn for the extra 10 minute conversation with the girl who may not attract us, the guy who’s awkward and annoying, and the elderly couple at church who simply want to know how school is going.
Looking beyond
Back to the nostalgic flash-forward. The cousins will be watching a movie and the sisters will be shopping in catalogs. Jake will still be asleep. Our dads will be hiding in the living room watching the annual slaughter of the Dallas Cowboys. I’ll slip into the kitchen for another piece of Oreo Crème Pie, gather my coat and keys, and slip out the front door to begin the journey home.
Soon after the Black Friday shopping rush, and any last minute visits to my favorite restaurants and locations in wonderful downtown Portland, I’ll get on a airplane and fly back to the sunny, and sometimes stale, world of Southern California.
Surely, it will rain here – eventually. Until then, I’ll be munching on a turkey leg in Disneyland, watching the little kids giggle and laugh. And over the next few months, I’ll watch my friends slowly fall in love with each other (getting older at Biola leads to that). But my mind will be somewhere else – listening to that slow pitter-patter of the rain on the windshield.
