Some people go to fancy restaurants on days like these, and others have hired help to prepare their daily meals, as well as splendid holiday feasts. At the end of such a day, those folks are not as spent and tired as I and my family and friends.
For us, this has been a good day's work. It has been a good day and good work. Our family and close friends have always been of modest means and rich traditions. On Thanksgiving and Christmas we come together and spend long hours cooking for and serving and eating with and laughing with one another. We even manage to keep laughing and celebrating our own company as we work through the clean up chores at the end of it all. Given the food and celebratory culture of New Orleans, you can just imagine the storm my family stirs up in a kitchen when we all put our best effort into it. Awesome.
When the day is gone and the evening grows late, as now, I often find myself remembering this part of a line from an Emily Dickinson poem, "The plenty hurt me ..." Yes, it really does hurt, but even though tired and spent from the work, and painfully overfed, as well as worn from being all talked and laughed out, the "hurt" is really plenty good. You see, we are the lucky ones. The plenty enjoyed by those accustomed to buying all the good work of days like these hurts them differently.
We have much to be thankful for. I hope you do as well, and have had a happy Thanksgiving.
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