Unexpected Song

Time was certainly of the essence the other day as Sylvia and I rushed back from the Cincinnati airport to surprise my family.

The ruse was simple--you need it simple so it does not seem illogical. Sylvia had invited my family, from patriarch Plop to 2nd grader Jack, over for dinner on Wednesday night. This does not strain credulity since gracious Sylvia often invites us/them over for dinner. But given my sister's schedule with the children--they RSVP'ed affirmatively--they had to arrive at 4:00 PM for dinner to accomodate karate, cub scouts, and gymnastics. My plane was due to land at 2:35 from Paris, so that is a lot to accomplish in under 90 miuntes!

I called Sylvia once I cleared immigration and passport control, got the bags, and was in her car about 3:10. Sylvia chose the ferry route over the highway thinking it would be faster. Well, we pull onto her street at 3:55. Uh-oh! My family is usually early for things so I crouch on the floor of her car as she pulls down her little street. We spy my father's car and then up pulls up my sister. Sylvia pulls in her driveway, I sneak out of the car, in through the basement, and head upstairs. At 4:00 on the dot Steve is there. As they come up to the door I savor the impending surprise. I throw open the door, and yell out, "Gobble, Gobble!" They look stunned. Obviously none of them had been expecting me. There is that look of stunned shock giving way to joyous smiles. Only Jack remained relatively nonchalant. He grabbed me and hugged me and said, "Hey, King--good to see you!" I had a "prop" to make my presence seem even more real and necessary. Two days before I flew my sister asked me on the phone to provide for her again the name of a book I had requested for Christmas. I had asked for this cultural history of the 1930s about which I had read a review in my favorite magazine, The Week. As Elizabeth looked at me with that look--but this visit wasn't on the schedule????--I thrust the clipped review at her and said, "You said you wanted the name of the book, so I brought it to you in person." We headed out to Skyline Chili to relax and enjoy the Thanksgiving surprise of my homecoming.

Thanksgiving Day included watching Emma and Jack and Steve participate in our ragtag west-side Thanksgiving Day parade, one turkey-and-ham dinner with Steve's family, and an evening turkey-and-ham dinner at Uncle Jack's house. All welcomed this unexpected guest with open arms. One of my brother-in-law's brothers-in-law (check out that correct punctuation!)couldn't get over that I had foregone the trip down the Nile to come back to Cincinnati. "But you could have gone anywhere," he reminded me. "Like Europe, or...or..." And with each of his suggestions I calmly said, "Been there. It's great. Sometimes home is the best destination."

Aunt Joy prepares a Thangsiving feast for over 30 people--she makes it looks soooo easy, and each dish is a tried-and-true success story that we have enjoyed over the years. She has multiple salads and vegetables and desserts and the best mountain of mashed potatoes you could imagine. And the warmth of the house was exactly what one wants as you count your blessings and offer thanks for our present state.

As is the tradition, Uncle Jack offered a stirring prayer just as we sat down with the different strands and threads of our family. Uncle Jack turned 80 a month ago--hard to believe that that generation is now reaching such a venerable stage. Uncle Jack reminded us all of the rich past that has brought us to this moment of thanks.

As I enjoyed the warm glow of Aunt Joy's triumphant Thanksgiving meal, I also realized we should send up thanks for the unexpected, for all the ways that life interrupts and renews itself without warning.

What would our lives look like if they held only what we had planned? Where would our wisdom or patience--or hope--come from?

I had not been at this table since the fall of 2006 when I had just recently found out about this school in Jordan and I spent a few weeks secretly looking at this possibility in my head and heart. That November, 2006 Thanksgiving was also our first without my mother, and indeed, even with the MS for decades, her death was unexpected and left us grateful we had been in the plans of her orbit and mighty talents.

In 2007 I spent Thanksgiving in Budapest with new friend Elizabeth and old friend Sharon. In 2008 I spent Thanksgiving on campus at KA with about two dozen colleagues as we faced the unexpected every day. The following day I jetted off for a weekend in Egypt. None of those jaunts was expected and on the safe planning sheet.

It will never cease to amaze me how the condition of being human means we cannot foretell with any accuracy what next Thanksgiving will bring. We can hope and imagine, and we can fear. Will I still be at KA in Jordan? Will I have made a move somewhere else? But when next Thansgiving comes around we will have to take account again of how the unexpected has shaped our lives. The unexpected enriches us and blesses us--with suffering sometimes, and sometimes with joy.

As I looked around at the cousins and aunt and uncle I have known my entire life, as I surveyed the groaning table and heaving satisfied bellies, I noted how we gather up the past and celebrate the present and open up to the unexpected future.

Of course, there are the short-term futures: will I have seconds? I did--on the mashed potatoes, stuffing, succotash, and broccoli salad. Will I have time to see Aunt Dot on this whirlwind surprise trip to Cincinnati? Will I get out of the house at 5:00 am the following day to shop with the diehards? The answer was a sad no, and an inscrutable yes to those questions.

I have arrived in New York now for a few days to surprise some more friends on this unexpected trip to the US for Thanksgiving. The unexpected--that time to blossom and ripen with new friends, new family, new love, new hope. It is our job to welcome it and give it meaning.

As we head into the holiday season, where most of us embrace our oldest traditions and rituals, let us look to the unexpected, that which we cannot know and could not have guessed, and see how the unexpected merges with our lives in Thanksgivings to come.