Once, when I was in highschool, my brother and I flew from our school in Switzerland to Washington DC for Thanksgiving weekend. It was impulsive: we had our airline passes and we wanted to visit our aunt and uncle. It was in their home that we celebrated every Thanksgiving of our lives until we moved overseas, and the notion of being home for the holidays had an irresistible pull, even to a couple of teenagers like us.
The things I remember about the weekend are scattered. The flags at Dulles were at half-mast. "For Congressman Ryan in Guyana," my aunt noted somberly. A clock radio in the room I was staying in went off in the middle of the night, and not knowing how to turn it off, I drifted in and out of sleep to top 40 tunes until at last I unplugged it. The meal was exactly as I remembered, but no children roamed the woods outside, and although the football game was on in the rec room downstairs, the bar stools were empty, and the air was clear of cigarette smoke. The table was only set for 8, not the usual 15-20.
I also remember that my aunt took us grocery shopping before we returned to Europe. We filled our cart with Dr. Pepper, Doritoes, and all sorts of other treats that were not available at school, and when we returned, we shared our windfall with all of our friends. The grocery bill came to just under 50 dollars, and my aunt insisted on paying it.
I thought of that moment today, for some reason. I could see her writing the check to Safeway, and I could feel the gratitude again. Fifty dollars seemed like a fortune then, and when I searched for an inflation calculator a minute ago, I know why. In 2019 dollars, it was 195.97-- which is a lot of money to spend on junk food for a couple of holiday crashers from Switzerland!
But my aunt and uncle were like that-- generous and gracious. Coincidentally, I am the same age now that they were then. At times I find myself in a position to support nephews, cousins, godchildren by treating them to a meal, or some clothes, or some other special little thing, and it's always a pleasure to do so.
Plus, I like to think I am honoring the example my aunt and uncle set.
The things I remember about the weekend are scattered. The flags at Dulles were at half-mast. "For Congressman Ryan in Guyana," my aunt noted somberly. A clock radio in the room I was staying in went off in the middle of the night, and not knowing how to turn it off, I drifted in and out of sleep to top 40 tunes until at last I unplugged it. The meal was exactly as I remembered, but no children roamed the woods outside, and although the football game was on in the rec room downstairs, the bar stools were empty, and the air was clear of cigarette smoke. The table was only set for 8, not the usual 15-20.
I also remember that my aunt took us grocery shopping before we returned to Europe. We filled our cart with Dr. Pepper, Doritoes, and all sorts of other treats that were not available at school, and when we returned, we shared our windfall with all of our friends. The grocery bill came to just under 50 dollars, and my aunt insisted on paying it.
I thought of that moment today, for some reason. I could see her writing the check to Safeway, and I could feel the gratitude again. Fifty dollars seemed like a fortune then, and when I searched for an inflation calculator a minute ago, I know why. In 2019 dollars, it was 195.97-- which is a lot of money to spend on junk food for a couple of holiday crashers from Switzerland!
But my aunt and uncle were like that-- generous and gracious. Coincidentally, I am the same age now that they were then. At times I find myself in a position to support nephews, cousins, godchildren by treating them to a meal, or some clothes, or some other special little thing, and it's always a pleasure to do so.
Plus, I like to think I am honoring the example my aunt and uncle set.
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