Growing up, one of my
best friends in the world was Justin Johnson. His family ran a slaughterhouse
so meat was always a staple in their household. And, dude, his mom was
unbelievable. I always said that if we could have put Rosa Lee’s talents into
Pamela Anderson’s body, you would have the ultimate female. (Note: These
comments were made back in 1993. This was when Pamela Anderson was one of the
hottest women on the planet.) We could come in from playing basketball at 1:00
in the morning and Rosa would be like, “Do you want gravy on the mashed
potatoes?” Life in the Johnson household
was blue collar and simple. And I absolutely LOVED it. When it was time to eat,
you had to jockey for position and dig in, otherwise, you went without. It was
paper plates and thin napkins and food that was the very definition of
“comfort.”
Then you had my mom
and dad. On holidays, it was tablecloths and cloth napkins in a napkin holder
and wine carafes and things like Turducken. (Yeah, even Microsoft Word didn’t
recognize that name. I am not saying that one was better than the other. It was
just very different.
Rosa had her buttered
noodles and my mom had her sweet potatoes with glaze and marshmallow
topping. But I could be comfortable at
either table.
Because of the
situation, we have been living “Johnson” style for the last 214 days. Plastic
cups, plastic silverware, paper plates. I know it is probably not the most
eco-friendly lifestyle but we literally have thousands of paper plates and
plastic forks to go through. Dishes were never in big demand on the sortie
missions. And everyone has been comfortable with this lifestyle because what
else are you going to do.
Well, the girls
decided to change some things up and they are breaking out all the fancy thick
paper plates and salvaging any real utensils we can find amongst the store’s
stock on the shelves. We have even agreed to break into a few of the candles we
saved back for when the power goes out just so the table can look nice. I think
it is a sacrifice we can make for this one very important meal.
I am anticipating
that time honored tradition where we go around the table and say what we are
thankful for. I am thinking about pulling a Jim Belushi and saying “The Cubs
winning the World Series and big tits.” I can guarantee no one else is going to
say that and it would add some humor to things… but at the same time, I don’t
want to trivialize things and I also do want to feel like I am rubbing people’s
noses in things.
So many have lost so
many. How can I look at these people in the eye and say, “I am thankful for my
son”? Truly, I am. The fact that he survived and made it here has pushed me to
accomplish things when I wanted to give up. I probably would be a lot more
careless if he wasn’t with me. He is a reason for me to get up every day and
make sure we are all remaining safe and secure.
I guess like all things,
I will say what comes to mind within the moment. I will feel out the table and
if they need a laugh, I’ll use it. More than anything, I am lucky to be alive.
If you are reading this, then you have made it too and you are one of the lucky
ones. So to you and yours, Happy Thanksgiving…
