Thanksgiving Blessings

Sipping pre-dawn coffee on this crisp October morning, I know it is time to fire up my rolling cocoon and head for Arizona. This Michigan autumn has been exceptionally clear and sunny but its coolness suggests winter winds and Thanksgiving. Various Thanksgiving blessings come to mind during this quiet hour before the world wakes up.

Maps are linear blessings that route George and I circuitously through Virginia for hugs from the Eastern kids before returning to high desert country. To an RVer about to tackle yet another cross-country trip, our road system is a blessing. I cringe when George travels tight construction zones, knowing full well that road repair and their creation results in the good roads I appreciate. But it is a little harder to appreciate the driver of a semi who is grooming his mustache in my shiny bumper while I am going the construction-zone speed limit.

Roads really are miraculous. Innumerable gravel or paved back roads satisfy our RVing wanderlust. If you have a schedule, interstates and toll roads abound. I avoid cities like a plague, but the intertwining levels of overpasses and underpasses to accommodate traffic patterns continue to amaze me.

What can I say about technology? When I “boot up” the computer even though it is already running, I am obviously experiencing a hard time feeling blessed that the computer is in my life. During calmer moments, I realize if the abundant photographs, documents, and writing necessities were not compressed into a computer, it would require an 85-foot motorhome to accommodate them. My life would be a lot less stressful at times without it, so technology is a blessing, however mixed.

Back Among Friends
Full or extended RVers would agree that time passes quickly because “fun stuff” fills our days to the brim. That has been exceptionally so with my return to southwestern Michigan and home territory after a five-year absence. Watching older friends and relatives forge bravely ahead into the medical expense and scariness of the “Golden Years” makes me feel more blessed than usual for this healthy, active RV lifestyle. I am determined to live each day to the fullest.

A 50th class reunion blessed my life this fall. Of 105 Dowagiac High School graduates, 55 classmates and their spouses attended. We visited the old high school with its magical memories of proms, pep assemblies, and Friday night football. The building didn’t look all that bad, a little scruffy, a little weathered, a little tired, but still functioning. It was, well, a lot like those of us who wandered its ghostly halls.

Old chums from 15 states and South America greeted each other in joyous communion on Saturday night at the Elks Club. They came from as many vocations as they did directions, and were now mostly retired. Mingling through Happy Hour brought exclamations. “I’d know you anywhere.” “You look just like you did in high school.” They kindly forgot the added paunch, the baldness, the silver hair, the hesitation, the stooped back, the earned wrinkles and the pleasing plumpness. Smiles, weathered by life’s storms, were brighter, wiser, and more sincere.

A five-week stop turned into a series of breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and visits (hopefully, with an eventual return to a reasonable diet). One long weekend, I headed for Warren Dunes State Park and invited friends to join me. A campfire is only complete with singing a few songs with former neighbor Bob Myers and his ukulele, and his solo regarding a mouse on the barroom floor. Our camaraderie in the flickering firelight brought memories of other family/friend associations either in the Myers backyard or in ours. These gatherings were just as often camping trips “up north” with various and sundry RVs and tents circled to include weeklong campfires, canoeing, hiking, and swimming. Our kids were fortunate to grow up within this circle of close-knit friends. It is from this background that I knew I would love RVing full time.

Comfort from Church
Yesterday was World Communion Sunday and my last Sunday as a member of the Niles First Presbyterian Church. I listened to the familiar swish as servers went from pew to pew, the communion narrative, and the click of cups finding a holder. The stained glass windows gleamed behind the choir loft where I sang so long ago. I am transferring my membership to a little Western church on the mountain where I now participate in winter choir. Life is changing again.

Our family was active in this church during my first life. There is no doubt that my faith, fellow choir members, and friends in general, saved my sanity when my Gentle Giant died unexpectedly and far too young in 1982. When I made the decision to sell the house and “take to the road,” the prayers and good thoughts of all these supportive people were riding on my bumper. Although time has taken its toll on the communication between us, when I come back, they gather me warmly into the fold. When I leave this morning, as in the past, those prayers and good wishes continue keeping me company as I travel.

It is time to close the computer, fasten everything down, check the oil and tires, hitch up the car, all to “take-off” mode. I will have another cup of coffee with my widowed sister-in-law, who has provided backyard parking privileges for my Michigan visit. The rest of the family has been hugged “until we meet again.” Now it is time to say goodbye to Mary.

Perhaps because I am older, perhaps because they are older, it is harder to say goodbye this time. I feel especially blessed because love grows and encompasses, and friendships deepen even with great distances between us. What marvelous blessings I personally celebrate this Thanksgiving! The downside is that it hurts to leave them here.

When November 25 actually arrives, I will share Thanksgiving dinner and fellowship with my extended Escapee family at North Ranch.

May God bless you abundantly this Thanksgiving.