logo-image

This Season Of Thanksgiving

Lisa Thomas • November 24, 2021

As we do every year at Thanksgiving, our blog is one day earlier than usual, just so we can officially wish you a Happy Thanksgiving this Thursday.

 

You’ve probably seen it, unless you don’t have cable or satellite TV.  Then, as my daughter has to constantly remind me, you miss the commercials.  Which I don’t suppose is always a bad thing . . .

It opens with an obviously distraught older gentleman, seated alone in the shadows of a well-loved room lit only by the lamps on the end tables.  The voice over is his daughter, asking “Dad, are you sure you’re up to host?” He struggles to maintain his composure then breaths deeply and looks up at the ceiling, and in the background you hear his reply, “Yeah.  We wanna keep it the way it always was, right?” And with that the snippets begin . . . he’s unfolding a white sheet that he carefully pins to the wall . . . he’s in the kitchen, wearing a festive Christmas apron, frustrated because his hand mixer isn’t working . . . he’s critically sampling the first batch of whatever to see if it tastes as it should . . . he’s unpacking the new throw pillow with the dog’s picture on it . . . and plugging in the tree.  The light that glows from its ornament-filled branches illuminates his face to reveal a look of profound sadness . . . sadness that slowly gives way to the slightest hint of a smile.  Then it cuts to the family gathering with everyone seated in the room where it began, now decked out with all things Christmas.  And as his daughter and newest grandchild nestle in beside him and the home movies begin, you see him dancing in the kitchen with his wife, and he says to his little one, “That’s your grandma.  She was the best at the holidays.” And if you’re paying close attention, you notice her festive Christmas apron.

Then you understand.

Granted, it’s a commercial, a subtle reminder that you can get stuff like Kitchenaid mixers and customized pillows from Wayfair while simultaneously yanking at your heartstrings.  But the moments their marketing agency wove together are moments that play out in homes all across the world during the holidays.  Someone is missing—and someone else is trying to cope with their absence.

Maybe that coping looks like his does.  We honor the traditions because those bring comfort and a closeness to the person we’ve lost.  Or perhaps we abandon the traditions in order to create new ones—ones that aren’t as painful because they aren’t wrapped around memories.

In this season of thanksgiving, I have watched that commercial time and again, and I have come to realize it’s telling me a great deal more than to buy stuff from Wayfair. For me, it’s a reminder to be thankful . . . thankful for the traditions that bind generation to generation, and the people who honor them.  Thankful for memories, no matter how painful, that keep our loved ones alive long after they leave us.  And, as much as I occasionally detest it, thankful for the technology that allows us to continue reliving those memories through sights and sounds that would otherwise be lost. But above all, I am reminded to be thankful for those people . . . past, present, and future . . . without whom the memories would not exist.

 

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

By Lisa Thomas February 20, 2025
Although every arrangement conference is different, any that involve planning some type of service share a few things in common, such as deciding who will speak, and when and where the service will be held. And at some point in all this planning, the funeral director will ask “Have you thought about music?”
By Lisa Thomas February 13, 2025
It was the spring of 1991 when I was first required to walk through the doors of Henderson Office Supply on Main Street in Henderson, Tennessee. The business was owned by the Casey family—the same Casey family who owned Casey Funeral Home—the same Casey family from whom we had just purchased both.
By Lisa Thomas February 6, 2025
It was December 14, 1799, and George Washington, first president of the United States, lay on his deathbed, the result of male obstinance, a sudden change in the weather, a desire to be prompt which led to dinner in soggy clothes, and medical practices of the day that were useless in the face of whatever illness was attacking his body. Actually, just useless in general.
By Lisa Thomas January 30, 2025
Pia Farrenkopf was a loner, a smart, driven woman of German descent who would be gone for weeks at a time, if not for work, then for the sheer pleasure of exploring the world. Her family grew to expect unanswered phone calls and random postcards from faraway places.
By Lisa Thomas January 23, 2025
Whenever a death occurs there’s always a cleaning out that follows. It may be a house or apartment, a hospital or nursing home room—maybe even just a closet and a drawer—but somewhere the items that represent that person’s life are tucked safely away, waiting for the day when they will pass to the next generation . . . or Goodwill, whichever is deemed appropriate.
By Lisa Thomas January 15, 2025
I find myself sitting in Panera, eating an Apple Chicken Salad and reading “The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle”, a Christmas present from my daughter and her family. Only this Panera is located in Vanderbilt Medical Center. Soon I will return to the darkness of Room 7 in the ICU and wait.
By Lisa Thomas January 9, 2025
We were just wrapping up a celebratory family meal (please don’t ask which one; I haven’t the foggiest notion, given the time of year and the prevalence of celebratory meals), when my 15-year-old grandson Wilson stretched his lanky frame in the manner that indicates a satisfaction with the food and a fullness from overindulging, and asked “Mona, (that’s what all the grandchildren call me . . . because my first name is Lisa . . . so, Mona Lisa . . .) “when do I get a copy of the Thomas Cookbook?”
By Lisa Thomas December 27, 2024
As I sit writing this, it is Christmas night—that time when the world grows still and quiet as the celebrations of the day fade into memories.
By Lisa Thomas December 18, 2024
‘Tis the season to be jolly . . . unless it isn’t. Unless it isn’t because Grief has recently come to call and seems quite content to stay, at least for the foreseeable future.
By Lisa Thomas December 12, 2024
I made a pretty big mistake this year. Actually, truth be known, I made a lot of mistakes this year. But this particular one was a doozie.
More Posts
Share by: