Author’s Note: On Tuesday, December 2nd, I published a sarcastic, facetious post on my Substack account about a gluten-free Thanksgiving dinner. It may prove the adage, “Just because you can do something, that doesn’t mean you should.” The truth is we had a close shave. But the person who would have insisted the clan adhere to gluten-freedom declined our invitation. Thanksgiving, indeed. The real story of our Thanksgiving is told here. It’s everything Thanksgiving should be.
On Thursday, November 20th, I published a post on my Substack account called, “Nothing is Sacred”, having to do with the theft of a flag from my father’s grave. On Wednesday, November 26th, I went back to Quonset Surplus to buy another flag to replace the one that had been stolen. The price of the flag was $2.35. I don’t carry cash.
When she saw my wallet, the woman in the store said, “I’m sorry. I can’t take a card for a purchase this small.”
I said, “Not even a debit card?”
She said, “No. I’ll just give you the flag.”
“Do you remember we were here last weekend with our dog, Eddie, and you asked us to bring him back to see you?” I asked.
“Oh, yes! Eddie!” she said, lighting up.
I said, “Eddie and I will be back, with cash, to pay you for the flag.”
I thanked her, wished her a Happy Thanksgiving, and left, reminding myself to take the horrific bullshit the mainstream media feeds us with a very large grain of salt.
The next morning, Thanksgiving Day, I picked Woody up from his group home, and we went back to the cemetery. On the way, Woody reminded me that day would have been our parents’ 78th wedding anniversary.
As you’ll see on the right side of the photo at the top of this post, we placed the new flag in the Marine Corp shield that had been empty the previous Saturday. We stood and reflected for a while in silence. Since the weather was temperate, I took the chills and the goose bumps I experienced to be spiritual communication since I was standing between the graves of our mother and father. You can tell me they weren’t there with us. But I won’t believe you. Neither will Woody.
The Union of Our Spirits …
With full hearts and souls, Woody and I got back in my car and headed for Casa O’Brien. Our guests started to arrive at about 1:00 in the afternoon. While all the players are identified in the photo below, I’ll put the roster and the players’ positions here:
With camp set up in our sunroom, we filled the place with Love, laughter, and stories. And we enjoyed the amazing meal to which everyone contributed a dish.
Epilogue
On Sunday, Eddie and I drove to Quonset Surplus to pay our debt.
As we walked in, I said to woman who’d given me the flag, “I’ve come to keep two promises. The first is I brought Eddie to see you.”
Eddie walked behind the counter as if he owned the place, and the woman crouched to pet him and talk with him.
Then I said, “Second, I’ve come to keep my promise to pay for the flag you gave me,” and I handed her more than the $2.35 price of the flag.
“I can’t take this,” she said. “The flag only costs $2.35.”
“I know that,” I said. “But you invested kindness and trust in me. I attach value to those things beyond the price of the flag. So, please consider this the return on your investment. And please know how grateful I am for your generosity.”
“Okay,” she said as she smiled.
She and Eddie said their goodbyes. She and I said ours. And I made a third promise — to be back to see her soon.
Originally Published on https://www.bizcatalyst360.com/category/lifecolumns/notes-to-self/
