Journal ~ An Intimate Thanksgiving & Pre-thinking for my First Turkey

I've been writing the list in my head, part of it has gone on paper. What do I still need for the stuffing? I have the fresh Willie Bird in the refrigerator, one box of stuffing, garlic. I think I need another box of stuffing.

I volunteered to prepare the turkey and the stuffing this year. My mother-in-law said to give her the giblets and she'll do the gravy. In my mind, the pan drippings are essential for the gravy, but she seems determined. I will still make a basic pan gravy, partially because I rarely make gravies, and partially because I can't let those drippings go to waste.

This will be my first time ever cooking a turkey, at least I'm pretty sure. I have a vague memory that's off very far in the distance, but I truly can't recall if that was a turkey or a large chicken. I think that's also why I roasted two small chickens a couple weeks back–to get some practice in. The part that makes me the most nervous is reading and trusting the thermometer. 

I feel ready and confident. I've watched a video on chow.com, the woman at Macy's gave me some tips when I was looking for roasting pans, and I've looked at a few other online recipes for ideas on the direction I'm going to go. To stuff or not to stuff? To brine or not to brine? I'm leaning toward stuffing, but no to brining. 

I had lunch with a friend this past week. and she said she didn't remember ever cooking a full turkey either. She's in her 60's, so I didn't feel so bad not having done it myself.

This will be my first time making stuffing too. For that I have a partial recipe in my head from my grandmother. As it turns out, my mother-in-law's mother made a similar stuffing, so it will be a melding of the two–in spirit and in love.

The grocery stores will probably be busy today. I was going to go late at night yesterday, but I thought one more day won't hurt.

It will be an intimate Thanksgiving at hubby's parents. There will be six of us plus Petunia and Lucas, the doggies. 

Petunia has been the greatest gift. She puts a smile on all of our faces with her spunkiness. It's hard to believe she's only 6 months old. She loves rocks. She brings big ones into the house, and when you see the size of the rock, you wonder how she lugged such a thing inside. Lucas loves her too. They are dear hearts together. Such a happy union all the way around. I look forward to seeing her each time we visit.

Petunia and my mother-in-law have bonded perfectly. It seems that her moods have lightened, which is a blessing.

I will be visiting with my uncle and brother today. My uncle will be happy to see my brother. 

There's a lot I'm grateful for–the small things and the big. I'm happy to be here visiting on this wonderful earthly plane. 

When I watch the news, it makes me wish there was more peace where there is violence and greed. I try to stay positive. I breathe. I think. I reflect. I wonder. It never entirely makes sense to me, and yet it has a sense of its own.

From my little corner, I send positive energy to the world...and I hope that those that need a warm meal, shelter, or a genuine smile, receive it today, tomorrow, and always. 

A Series of Events: Unexpected Light

There has always been a spiritual home inside of me, and at times, it may have grown dark and cold, but mostly a light was always left on because of my grandmother. When I was "finding" myself in my late teenage years, I rejected aspects of my Catholic upbringing. This struggle would continue as I wrestled with myself and tried to find what was true for me on my terms.

A fading memory flickers in and out, always there, but reawakened on a recent visit to Carmel. I’m in my early twenties, sitting at the kitchen table with my grandmother discussing how the Catholic religion is not the only one that is good. On that she agrees, but I feel her desire to want me to embrace it as she has. At the time, I was exploring Eastern thought.  When I saw the look in her eyes and knowing her passion and devotion to Catholicism, I realized it didn't matter and I backed down. I didn't want to take that from her. At the same time, I didn't want her to take my explorations from me. At that moment, her own wisdom to me whispered in my ear: To respect my elders.

I remember a point in my life, a seemingly long sporadic time of feeling angry at the world, easily upset, slightly depressed. Time shows that there is an order to events that don’t often go in a straight line, but usually connect, disconnect, and reconnect. Amongst the many synchronistic influences and events along the way, one defining moment was when an old friend called me out of the blue with an extra ticket to see a Buddhist monk speak in Berkeley.  I didn't have anything else to do that night so I went along. I didn't know who Thich Nhat Hanh was at the time and didn't know what to expect. I still have the ticket stub. Touching Peace: Thich Nhat Hanh, Berkeley Community Theater. The year is 1993.

I met my friend in Berkeley. He would have to head back home to Santa Cruz that night. We caught up on old times while we waited in the long line to enter the auditorium. Inside, we took our seats. The whole place buzzed with conversation, people finding their seats and visiting with people they knew. The velvet red curtains stood out to me. They looked regal and added warmth. 

Next I remember people taking their seats and the chatter fading to silence after someone announced Thich Nhat Hanh.

Silence. 

As soon as Nhat Hanh walked out to the front of the stage in his robes, the Buddhist nuns nearby, I felt an instant peace in every part of my being. And then he spoke in his calm, loving voice. Nhat Hanh radiated the most positive, loving energy that I have ever felt and it spilled out into the room. I was touched. His voice was low and it was difficult to hear him at times. But because of how he spoke and the genuine smile on his face, the love and compassion—his body language—this made the words not matter. He embodied the words, the teachings—and delivered them with love. He was truly present with every ounce of his being right there in an auditorium emanating with his inner peace, that same love and compassion reflecting back to him. 

Ever since that day, I felt changed. I felt renewed; the light inside of me would be restored. As I continued to learn from Nhat Hanh through his books, I appreciated how he respected all religions and encouraged us to make peace with the religions we were raised in. Over the years in between, I came to embrace Catholicism, mostly the way I remember my grandmother practicing it through her actions, through her loving kindness.

The two spiritual traditions that guide me most today are Zen Buddhism and my grandmother's Catholicism. Nature serves as my all encompassing teacher, which is embedded within and lives in me. I am a human being that connects with her grandmother’s light, connects with human light, who does this on her own terms, where the great blue sky and all the creatures are her guides.

In Carmel, walking through both the monastery grounds and the mission grounds, I feel my grandmother's presence and I also feel Nhat Hahn's presence. I feel the light inside as I walk quietly through the small monastery garden and pathways with images of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the ocean in sight. I light a candle at Mission Carmel, sending positive thoughts to those in heaven and all around.

I feel blessed to have been touched so deeply by two living angels and to know that I have that presence in my being—in light and dark times. For that, I am eternally grateful.