Thanksgiving will be here in a few days, and I hope to resist the urge to gorge myself on all the delicious food that will be on the table. Despite that challenge, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and has been for quite awhile. As a child, I would have picked Christmas as my favorite, and the magic of that holiday still enchants me. But now Christmas brings a lot of stress with shopping, decorating, card sending, and a plethora of other tasks. Thanksgiving, on the other hand, is fairly laid back. I help prepare the meal and set the table for our guests, but after that, I can mostly relax. Maybe catch a football game or do some writing. Of course, there are dirty dishes to wash, but those can wait until the end of the day or even Friday morning.

Like Christmas, Thanksgiving brings back many memories. I remember going with my dad to the train station downtown to meet my grandmother, who came in from Cincinnati. Later, we’d drive to the Columbus Athletic Club to pick up our turkey. The aromas coming from the club’s kitchen were beyond heavenly. I remember the one Thanksgiving when we had pheasant as our main dish. My dad shot the bird on a hunting trip. It tasted pretty good. When we did have turkey, I would break the wishbone with my sister after the meal — and usually end up with the bigger piece.

Two of my most memorable Thanksgivings occurred while I was in the army. I spent Thanksgiving 1973 at Fort Gordon, Georgia with no family within 400 miles of me. A couple of other lieutenants and me found a low-budget restaurant with a holiday buffet dinner, and we had our traditional turkey dinner there. Two years later, my friend and fellow officer Chuck Wilson and I came to Columbus for Thanksgiving. On our return to Fort Bragg, heavy snow made the journey through the West Virginia mountains especially dangerous. Our car spun out early on the trip, just barely avoiding other vehicles. Later, we suffered a flat tire, and after changing it, had to push the car now and then due to poor traction on the snow-slicked roads.

Thanksgiving 1994 stands out as memorable for a sad reason. It was the last one with my father and grandmother. Both died the following year, Grandma in February and Dad in September. More-recent Thanksgivings have been happy and busy occasions with my wife and me hosting the big dinner on Thursday and then having a brunch the next day for family members who had to be elsewhere on the holiday.

I hope my children and grandchildren will someday have cherished memories of the Thanksgivings they spent with me. The love, care, and joy I give to them not only on Thanksgiving but throughout the year will assure that they do.