“I awoke this morning with devout
thanksgiving for my friends,
the old and the new.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson:
mid-19th critical thinker
It is Thanksgiving morning here in the United States.
The day before this American Thanksgiving is the anniversary of the death of Molly’s father. By now he has been gone, unbelievably, twenty-two years. We reminisced and were touched by thoughts of his life.
During the day, I came across a piece of music by Anthony Gargiula titled Empty Chair. The song is about a young man missing his deceased grandfather. It ends with a phone message he kept from his grandfather, telling him what a great grandson he was. The piece was incredibly touching and evoked many thoughts about people who are no longer a part of my life.
In the opening chapter of The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (16th of the Roman Emperors), he thanks the many people who laid the foundation of his life and those who influenced his journey. They included his grandfather, father, mother, tutors, teachers, mentors, household and family members, and his friends and companions.
Every time I revisit The Meditations, I am grateful for my life and health. More so, I am thankful for my parents who gave me life, and those who nudged me, sometimes kicking and screaming, along the way. So many of those remain alive only in the reaches of my mind…people to whom I owe so much and who added vibrant brush strokes to the tapestry of my life.
In 1852, Charles Dickens (best known for A Christmas Carol) wrote a short piece titled The Child’s Story. A grandfather tells his grandchild a story about a traveler on a journey who comes across several characters, asking each, "What do you do here?"
He encounters: a beautiful child at play, a handsome boy learning, a young man in love, a man, his wife, and his children busy with labor. These characters invite the traveler to play with them, learn with them, love with them, and be busy with them. Each time he does, but in the end loses them and moves on.
Finally, the traveler comes across an old man sitting on a fallen tree who invites him to sit and watch the sun set. The traveler asks the old man, "What do you do here?" The old fellow says, "I remember. Come remember with me."
Dickens writes,
“…and all his friends came softly back and stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the young man in love, the father, mother, and children: every one of them was there, and he had lost nothing. So, he loved them all and was kind and forbearing with them all, and was always pleased to watch them all, and they all horoured and loved him…”
In the U.S., we are celebrating a day of giving thanks. And yet, there will be many empty chairs, chairs that over a lifetime were filled with those who gave unselfishly to us.
On this day, let's take a few moments to invite them to come softly to our minds, to remember how they loved us, and to give thanks for them.
- ted
