Published: December 01, 2008 12:24 am         

VALLEY: Same turkey — different bird

This past Saturday, my wife and I held our annual family Thanksgiving dinner. We do it on the weekend with the purpose of giving our adult children a chance to spend Thursday with their extended relatives or own families. Anyone with grownup kids knows about taking advantage of that narrow window of opportunity. If we miss it ... well, we’ll miss it (regretfully, for sure).

While musing aloud about my reluctance to write about our get-together in an article (because I’ve been doing the column for several years and I risked repeating the same scenario), my son, Eric, volunteered “Don’t worry! If anyone has read your column once, the probability of them reading it again is zilch.”

And then he promptly turned to his brother Paul for a celebratory high-five — to which my daughter, Melissa, moaned a sympathetic “Aw.” Did I tell you that I like Melissa the best?

As we do every year for the occasion, we have a “turkey hunt” for the grandkids in the back field. This involves individual oatmeal boxes that my wife has cleverly adorned to look like the featured bird; they are filled with goodies and the obligatory pair of socks (so that when they come back inside they can replace the ones they had on because their parents never remember to bring boots). The boxes are then scattered about the yard — slightly camouflaged from plain view. And when the time is right and at a given signal, all hell breaks loose.

Forget about brother, sister and cousin blood-ties, this is all-out war — there are Tootsie Rolls to be had! With shoes coming off after only three steps in the soft mud, the win-at-all-costs race is on.

This is no turkey trot — this is the Indy 500, kids’ version. No apologies are issued as the older ones toss younger ones aside. There’s a gumdrop out there with their name on it and only divine intervention will stop them from getting there first. It makes tackle football look like a game of checkers.

And as the old saying goes about the nut not falling far from the tree, these kids are not unlike their parents. With the hunt winding down, Dominic pointed back at me and shouted “Hey guys, there’s Grammy’s turkey.”

“I think it’s a tom,” Emma timidly replied, testing the waters of sarcasm (I now know who to get to write the column if I’m off).

Back at the dinner table, we had our ritual toast to those present and to absent loved ones: Thankful to have had our wonderful parents, my wife, brother Mike, sister-in-law Debbie and I raised a glass. Great friend and family member through marriage, Ann, and her daughter Jeanne, toasted their beloved husband and father, Ron. We miss them all — but on this occasion, we’re thankful for the precious roles that God let them play in our lives.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. And if I might suggest: Don’t waste time dwelling on what you don’t have and what you could have had — but DO take the time to appreciate what you do have and what you HAVE had.

And that’s the way it looks from the Valley.

Tom Valley is a Medina resident who writes a column every Wednesday for The Journal-Register. Write to Tvalley@rochester.rr.com.