Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Ironic Thankgivings

Thanksgiving is a time of feasting, festivities, and thankful hearts. A time of remembering, savoring, and gratefulness. Generally, most people can create that atmosphere especially if there has been bountiful blessings showered lately on you by God.

"I'm so thankful for -."

"I just am so grateful to -."

"I feel blessed because -."

However, what if on Thanksgiving, something catastrophic happened? Would you still be gushing out thankfulness and joy? Our family has been put to the test for the third year in a row of a series of unexpected, unwelcomed events that have left us saying hopefully "could be worse!"

Two years ago (3 Thanksgivings ago now), we traveled up to Parkdale to spend Thanksgiving day up in the cottage. There was a thin layer of snow and so we decided to go sledding. Bad idea. We had to dodge rocks as we careened down patches of melting snow. Rose (age 8 at the time) decided to go higher than everyone else even though a certain person she should have listened to - told her NO. 
As Rose flew down the hill, she was obviously terrified, probably wishing with all her might that she had listened to the experienced, calculating person who told her NO. Slamming into a giant rock, she was thrown off the sled with a force that propelled her into the snow. Dad (who is actually the person who told her NO), ran to her rescue but it was too late. Her back pained her to the extremity. Quickly, Mom and Dad raced down to the hospital with her while the rest of us stayed at home trying to follow the Turkey Feast recipes (the turkey didn't turn out quite normal). Rose got a CAT scan and no bones were broken to our relief. However, she did have a sprain. They gave her some kind of pain killer which zonked her ability to function rationally. We never planned to have Rose crying "Mother's Turkey, I want Mother's turkey!" up and down the halls of the hospital on Thanksgiving day. But that's what Rose did. And we were thankful when the nurse asked the sly question, "Do you like your brothers and sister?'' And Rose retorted, "Of course!" That answer could be debatable in some moments. All in all, Rose recovered rapidly and by the time we headed down the mountain, she was back to her old self. We were grateful God had saved her from further harm.


 Last year (2 Thanksgivings ago), we traveled up to Parkdale to spend Thanksgiving day up in the cottage. Does this sound familiar? There was a thin layer of ice this time and unaware of impending disaster, we were playing tag with our dogs outside. Bad idea....again. As we raced up the stairs, Pearl dashed up behind us but then fell back with a sharp, high cry of pain. Her paw had caught in the opening slats between each stair. She wasn't putting weight on it so we rushed her down to the veterinary hospital. Do these verbs (raced, dashed, fell, rushed) give you an idea how hectic our Thanksgivings are? However, after the rush, there's always the wait. We waited and waited until the veterinarian declared our dog to have a "sprain" in her leg. He gave us some outrageously priced little pills to give Pearl who was doing her best to act injured. We had a crying patient on our hands for the next few days; she was worse than Rose! As we headed down the mountain, we were thankful Pearl was young and could heal easily and that she didn't need surgery.



This year, we traveled up to Parkdale to spend Thanksgiving day up in the cottage. There was no snow and no ice so we hoped there would be no worries. Wrong. Usually we stay in the warm car while Dad turns on the heat and gets things all warmed up. Well this time it seemed he was taking longer than normal. Finally Mom sent me in to check on him. I opened the door and coughed. The place reeked chemical stench. There was pure black cobwebs arranged all over the room, drifting down eerily as I walked around the place. Dad came out of the basement dusting his hands. "The oil furnace exploded," he said. Mom and everyone else came in with bags of luggage. "Take it all back out," Dad shook his head."We can't stay here." Here are the facts: Dad turned on the oil furnace but black smoke was coming out of the vents and into the house. It looked like the installation had fallen into the heat furnace and there were dead mice around its base. The whole house looked like Halloween in full decoration. Everything was covered in an oil base charcoal? I'm not sure exactly but we couldn't easily get it off anything. We're going to have to get professional cleaners to go through everything. As we headed back down the mountain after only an hour up at the cottage, we felt blessed that we weren't in the house when that happened and that our house hadn't burned down.



I hope you enjoyed reading about my family's crazy misfortunes and I hope you learned that there is always a "could be worse!" if you look hard enough. Next year, I'm hoping my family will stay home. I'll be in New Zealand so I certainly don't want to miss another ironical Thanksgiving. But if something happens, I'll let them tell you......

Avonlea