On Thanksgiving Day, my wife and I had 14 people at our house, including us. Two of my three sons, a granddaughter and her fiance, my middle son’s fiance, four younger granddaughters, and three older grandsons were on hand to eat and celebrate the holiday.
After eating, most everyone went out into the front yard. The younger girls wound up playing together, the guys tossed a football around, and the young couple joined in the fellowship. I sat in a rocking chair on the front porch with an ice tea and just watched and listened.
After a few minutes, I thought that I needed to get up and go start cleaning the kitchen as 14 people can leave a lot of clean-up to do. And then I hesitated.
I will be 65 in January. My father passed away in 1996 at the age of 69. It occurred to me that I didn’t know how many Thanksgiving Days were left for me. So, I decided that the kitchen could wait.
For quite some time, I watched all the activity in the front yard, listened to the noise and the banter, and felt a great deal of satisfaction. These were my people. My family. My sons, my grandchildren, and the people they love and have brought into their lives.
Some were missing from the scene. Another son and his wife and two daughters live out West and were unable to be present for this Thanksgiving. Another granddaughter was unable to come and a daughter-in-law was ill. I missed them but they too are my people.
For the time being, I am the patriarch of this portion of the Epps clan and before me, laughing, shouting, playing, and teasing was my legacy — that which has made my time here meaningful.
The day was a snapshot of our lives together. We have come through a great deal, this family of mine. Many people believe that the life of a minister is idyllic and that he nor his family have problems. They would be stupendously mistaken. We have had our share — maybe even more than our share — of heartache, tragedy, brokenness, and pain.
But we have had joy, too. And high moments of deep pride and satisfaction. And we have had those moments that, for a while at least, all is perfect. This was one of those days … except for the absences that we felt.
I have learned that each day is a gift and that we are either grateful for it or that we take the day for granted. I was at a hospital the day before Thanksgiving. I spoke to a woman whose husband might not be there for her the next day. I saw a daughter say goodbye to a father who was unresponsive. I watched a medical team pull another man back from the brink of death — twice.
I saw the happy faces of people who were visiting a new baby and I saw the forlorn countenances of men and women whose friends or family members might not last the night. Those were snapshot, too, moments in time that occur briefly and are then gone.
When my oldest son got the football stuck high in a tree, I left the front porch to join the crowd as all offered advice as how to get it down. For a half hour or so, the family was engaged in the activity of trying to retrieve the ball by various methods and techniques — most of which were futile. There was an abundance of laughter and it is lamentable that no one recorded the antics performed. Finally, a grandson was successful, the ball returned to the ground, and the members of my family returned to their pursuits.
The memory lingers. The joy, the satisfaction, remains. The history of my life will not record that I did much that was memorable. But I did do this — I was a part in the creation of these people before me. Those who were not my relatives soon will be, as weddings await. These people are what and who make my life full of meaning.
If I never see another Thanksgiving Day, I know for what I am eternally grateful. These men and women, these boys and girls … this is my lasting legacy. This is why I give thanks to God. This was a snapshot that I will hold dear forever.
[David Epps is the pastor of the Cathedral of Christ the King, Sharpsburg, GA (www.ctkcec.org). He is the bishop of the Mid-South Diocese which consists of Georgia and Tennessee (www.midsouthdiocese.org) and the Associate Endorser for the Department of the Armed Forces, U. S. Military Chaplains, ICCEC. He may contacted at frepps@ctkcec.org.]
