Thanksgiving Memories: Two Short Stories

Holiday Remembrances by Patrick O’Connor
(Part of a work in progress titled “You Can’t Make This Stuff Up; The Charmed Life of a Boomer”)

A Red Hook Thanksgiving
Sue and I were visiting our son Sean in Brooklyn, NY for Thanksgiving holiday. We did this a few years in a row and it was great fun. Sue and I would haul dinner fixins with us from Ohio and we’d prepare and enjoy a traditional Thanksgiving meal. New York City is usually quieter on this holiday, as many residents leave. It made for a really nice time and Sean often invited a friend or two who maybe had no place to go for the holiday. That always makes a holiday better.

We went with him to visit a friend of his who lives with his family in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn. It was just a get-acquainted visit, as we would be preparing our Thanksgiving dinner later that day.

Red Hook seemed like an unusual name for a city so I did a little digging to learn about it. It turns out, Red Hook has a long history dating back to colonial times. It is home to the Red Hook Society for the Apprehension and Detention of Horse Thieves, founded in 1796 and still functioning. Seems a bit odd that such a society would still exist, but with a name like Red Hook, perhaps it fits. Maybe unusual things just happen in Red Hook.

Sean’s friend and his wife had two small children, one about 4 and the other maybe 2. We sat down and began to chat and get acquainted. After a few moments, one of the kids started to look pale and sort of ill. Suddenly, the younger one began to vomit enthusiastically, spewing liquid on her sister’s head as well as my arm and all over the table and floor. The mom quickly sprang into action, getting the little girl into the tub to clean her up. The rest of us did some clean-up work of our own with puzzled looks on our faces. The little one returned feeling much better and we sort of returned to our visit.

Suddenly, the chair I was sitting on collapsed, and I fell flat on the floor. It turns out the 4-year-old liked to play with the chair legs, essentially unscrewing them from the base of the seat. Of course, I had no idea this would happen until I hit the floor. The guy forgot to alert us to hid daughter’s playful ways.

They were nice enough folks, and as much as we were enjoying our visit, we left shortly after that. We thought about inviting them to join us for Thanksgiving dinner but figured we’d better leave well enough alone.

We returned several times for another New York City Thanksgiving but that was our only visit to Red Hook. It made for a very memorable Thanksgiving Day but not one I’d elect to repeat. I guess lots of unusual things do happen in Red Hook.

Thanksgiving Pill
I usually attend Mass on Thanksgiving morning. It’s been a tradition for those of us who do so to bring along a few grocery items to donate for the Christmas food drive. I’ve always enjoyed doing this, as it seems an appropriate thing to do around the holidays. I like knowing we’ve contributed to  make someone’s holiday a little better and brighter.

As I was walking into church, I noticed a woman waving and calling me. I recognized her as one of the long-time parishioners, so I walked over to her. She asked me if I would help carry her bag of groceries into church since it was too heavy for her. “Of course I will,” I said. I took the bag from her car, and we  started on our way to the church.

As we walked the hundred feet or so to church, she told me that she was running late that morning because she got mixed up about the time the service would start. She said the morning had been so hectic, she had even forgotten to take her morning pills.

I thought about that for a second and how going to church was sort of like taking a pain reliever. I know I always feel better after going to church. So, I commented to her that going to church was a bit like taking a pill. She agreed, commenting, “you’re right but some pills are pretty hard to swallow.”

Luckily, at that moment we arrived at the church door, which I opened for her without further comment. I thought it was best to let the service  finish the conversation.

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