I know I will have vivid memories of Tatiana Schlossberg’s essay in the New Yorker about her terminal cancer and her vivid memories of family members.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Do you see vivid memories in my other images for today?
.
Here’s what I find when I search for “vivid memories” on YouTube:
.
Now I need to create more vivid memories by going into the hospital for my in-person Coping and Healing group.
Thanks to all who are here for this vivid memories post, including YOU.
I
Good beginning, Carol. 💕
I once hosted thanksgiving in my tiny house in my garage because it was the biggest space and calling it garage-giving and we had a blast
My first Thanksgiving in Madison, when I discovered that my son and his wife not only celebrated by going to an all-you-can-eat restaurant, but also that their habit of splitting everything evenly meant, not only that they each paid separately for theirs but that I was expected to pay for my own as well. I was taken somewhat aback, since if they had been visiting me in Seattle for Thanksgiving they would have eaten an entire homemade meal for which I had shopped and gladly prepared for them and others.
His wife, Betsy, is gone now and it is just the two of us. I don’t want to go to a restaurant, and I don’t have it in me to cook an entire Thanksgiving dinner for just the two of us. Instead, we order Thanksgiving dinners from the University of Wisconsin kitchens at 20 bucks a pop. We order four all together, 2 each, because we insist on “leftovers.” And yes, I fork out the $40 for my own. It’s sometimes like living in a whole other culture. More thanks and less giving. LOL!
It all works, Barbara.
Vivid Thanksgiving. Oh there are so many. Days of yore when my Grandfather would give the prayer, usually something he clipped from the newspaper. And I sat there basking in his words as they had the light of 1000 suns…
But one I think you might get a kick out of, Ann.
A few weeks prior, my wife’s- then fiancee’s- grandfather passed away. Thanksgiving was going to be a solemn occasion at her mother’s house. Nevertheless, the family and friends gathered for the meal. After dinner before dessert, her grandmother called all the grandchildren into the living room. My wife dragged me in to the room as well.
Her grandmother sat there stoically and started with the youngest grandchild- my wife’s cousin. She said “This is your Hannukah gelt. I wish there was more”as Hannukah was early that year. All the grandchildren received their envelopes and she turned to me. “Stan”, she said, “since you will joining the family, I have your’s here.” She pointed to the envelope. “Only if you can tell me what Hannukah is.”
So I told her everything I knew (was taught) in my Catholic upbringing bolstered by my History BA. She, my future in-laws, and family friends sat back, astonished that this goyim knew the meaning of Hannukah in its entirety. She turned to my wife and said “You do not know the story this well”.
I was the son-in-law they dreamed about.
I appreciate your answers so much, Stan!
My most memorable Thanksgiving was a week after my son was born very early and was in a NICU two hours from home. It was the first time the trappings of the holiday (meal with family or friends) meant nothing. All I wanted was to be with my baby and have him come home, which he did on Dec. 9.
Thanks for sharing that vivid memory with us!
Meat stuffing vs. bread stuffing as a family discussion is a memory of mine, Ann.
Thanks for sharing that memory, Mark.
so sad reading her pain and the horrible cancer diagnosis. X
💔💙