Thanksgiving 2019

The 4th Thursday of November arrived last week and all was well. We were excited to welcome our 19 year-old son home from college and my 87 year-old father was joining us from San Diego. The University of Oregon is only 100 miles away, but I was still really excited to spend time with my son. Certainly, he would be happy to see me too. My side of our family would be spending Thanksgiving weekend together. All signs pointed to a joyous Hallmark event. The final touches included friends, good wine and a delicious feast. And yet a closer look would have revealed some clouds on the horizon.

We gathered Wednesday evening with close friends for our annual pre Turkey-Day manhattan night. Our son happily joined for roughly 71 minutes before leaving for a more pressing Friendsgiving celebration. My 2 roommates (1) and my dad and I enjoyed our friend’s hospitality and their bourbon but at 9pm it was time to go. As we walked out, I carefully ushered my dad toward the car. My dad raced ahead and before I could react he had fallen in the driveway. I froze. My immediate thought as I looked at him sprawled on the pavement was “down goes Frazier”. I wasn’t able to protect him even though I was 2 feet away. I was 100% focused on my father’s safety and it wasn’t enough. We got him home, bandaged him up and realized we had dodged a serious bullet.

Thanksgiving morning came and my dad was still kicking. The bandages had held and the ice and Advil were doing their job. The Lions and Bears played in the background and the 12pm glass of beer/wine was just around the corner. The Friel house was in order, but things felt different. We sat together but mostly silent in the family room and kitchen. The kids were buried in their phones, my wife was cooking, my father surfed his iPad and I watched some pretty horrible NFL football. Much of the day drifted along in this manner. There were no board games to be played, no puzzles to work on and we didn’t play cards. There wasn’t even holiday music. Everyone was content and happy but in their own little world. I suppose there is nothing wrong with any of this but it still bummed me out. Our Thanksgiving feast came and went and our lone guest was gone by 6 pm. We somehow got buy-in from the teenagers to watch the movie Elf. This was the highlight of my weekend because we were all in the same room laughing. Our son left shortly after the movie ended to see yet another group of friends and try some Black Friday shopping. Never in a million years did I ever think my son would be at a mall at midnight. His new passion for shopping was just further proof that our worlds were spinning into different orbits.

Friday morning came and the only thing on our to do list was getting a Christmas tree. We arrived at Furrow Farms and it took all of 15 minutes to find the right tree, have it baled and tied to the roof of the car. That is efficiency at its finest but it also felt hollow. No longer were the kids little. No longer did we search and search for the perfect tree. No longer did they demand hot chocolate, although my daughter got some at lunch. My dad was already cold, ready for lunch and didn’t share our excitement. It all felt like a business trip. Helvetia Tavern provided our annual lunch of burgers and fries and soon we were home. Our pattern of drift resumed and we all got lost again in our devices. We had planned to decorate the tree together but it just wasn’t to be. Friday night arrived and both kids were gone for the evening by 5 pm. Our son left early Saturday for Eugene and the Civil War game. He slept at our house for 3 nights, enjoyed 3-4 meals with us but was otherwise focused on his friends. This is perfectly normal behavior for a 19 year-old home from college but it still sucks. I remember coming home from college for Thanksgiving 30+ years ago and all I wanted to do was see friends. Now I live on the other side. My expectations for his visit as well as my Dad’s were completely off.

The rest of Saturday was spent shopping at the mall and watching a bit more college football. We then enjoyed a wonderful dinner at our favorite French bistro. My father returned to San Diego on Sunday and it was back to my regular routine with my roomies. The Hallmark channel was already on when I got back from the airport. It was officially December. I was once again relegated to find my own tv, my own company. My daughter invited me to stay but Hallmark movies are painful to watch. It’s the same story every time, just with different actors and a different fictitious town. It’s always small-town America and there is a misunderstanding that is resolved just in time for Christmas Eve. The cute couple kisses and live happily ever after. Barf. Vomit. I’m a romantic but these shows are phony, manufactured and just too perfect.

All in all it was a pleasant Thanksgiving. We shared quality time and enjoyed good food and drink. We didn’t have any blow-ups and successfully avoided politics for the most part. Sorry Baba, but it’s 4-1 on most issues. And yet a week later, I feel a sense of loss. Our family is in transition and I find myself stuck squarely in the middle. On one side are my maturing children, mostly my son, who doesn't want to hang out as much with the parents or grandfather. And on the other side is my father who wants to spend “some” time with his son’s family. But Portland is cold, the weather is rough on his bones and his mobility here is greatly reduced. After just 3 days he is ready to leave. He woke up Friday morning eager to print his boarding pass for the flight home. “Dad you don’t leave until Sunday…..” He definitely missed his San Diego weather but more importantly, he missed his own circle of friends and the daily routine of his retirement community. He is the unofficial mayor and is always in high demand.

I don’t like being in the middle of three generations but I need to own it and embrace it. It’s a certainty that our familial plates will only shift further in the coming years. A new normal will settle in and our traditions of years past will evolve into new traditions. I will survive.

(1) Roommates: My son left for college just 15 months ago. I now live alone with my wife and daughter. I’m now in the minority. They have become my defacto roommates and they make all the decisions. Thank God they like football!