I read that there might be a turkey shortage this week, but not at our house. A giant Butterball turkey from Costco is currently awaiting brining by my grandson-in-law Caleb to be followed by a roasting ceremony similar to that of the Salem witch trials, except it takes longer.

In spite of my predilection for violence in movies, I’m always a bit squeamish when it comes to roasting, carving, and eating large naked animals. I probably acquired this habit from my Norwegian mother. In spite of the tendency of her Viking forebears to eat their enemies, my mother was not what you would call a dedicated carnivore. Her idea of a really special treat was pickled herring. (My Norwegian grandpa’s favorite was pickled pig’s feet.)

The first time I ever tasted turkey was after I was married, and I never really acquired a taste for it. This had to be due to having a mother who came from a land where turkeys – and Thanksgiving holidays – were missing in action.

It wasn’t that our mama wouldn’t have known how to wrangle a turkey into the oven, because I remember really cold winters when she would roast a big goose. My sister and brothers and I dreaded those occasions because we knew what we’d be facing later on.

What mother wanted from the bird wasn’t just the meat, but what she called “goose grease”. Then, for the rest of the winter, when any of us got bad colds, she’d treat us to a spoonful of castor oil. Following that, she would heat up a supply of the goose grease augmented with medicinal oils, spread it on our chests as a poultice, cover it with flannel or towels, and put us to bed. The next morning, we would have to face going to school reeking of camphorated oil, and nobody would sit next to us.

I can’t remember what we’d have for the main course on Thanksgiving, but it was probably ham or chicken, thankfully not mutton, sardines or lutefisk which is dried codfish that has been soaked in a water and lye solution before cooking. It is definitely not yummy!

Speaking of thanks, though, that’s really what it’s time for. Enough with the turkey talk! I hope that, like me, you have so much to be grateful for that you don’t know where to begin to express it. There’s so much to be grateful for. I like this little prayer that reminds me of all of it, and of those who, instead, have to endure continuous suffering.

Remembering Others

O God, when I have food,
help me to remember the hungry;
When I have work,
help me to remember the jobless;
When I have a home,
help me to remember those who have no home at all;
When I am without pain,
help me to remember those who suffer,
And remembering,
help me to destroy my complacency;
bestir my compassion,
and be concerned enough to help;
By word and deed,
those who cry out for what we take for granted.

– Author Unknown

Have a happy Thanksgiving!