A Born Again Thanksgiving

It’s the time of year again to hear all the “What are you thankful for” comments, such as all the known cliché’s. While I am truly thankful for all of the same, such as family, friendships, etc., it wasn’t until this Thanksgiving I have truly found a new meaning. I am not only an avid outdoorswoman, but as I’ve said, a daughter, sister, aunt, and most importantly, wife and mother. It is my sons who have now bestowed onto me a “Born Again Thanksgiving” meaning!

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Last Friday night, a week before Thanksgiving, my oldest son, Holt (8), came down with a stomach bug. It was not long after that my youngest, Tuckyr (2), started down the same yukky road. This was shortly followed by my husband, Kevin, and me. Now there we were, Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, knowing we were not going to be able to attend any of the 3 turkey day offers we had received. We didn’t want to contaminate anyone else with these terrible germs. This upset Holt very much because he is a very strong holiday festivity believer. All he could talk about was not being able to have turkey and go to one of the “parties.” That’s when my mommy wheels began to turn in my head. There was no doubt while this bug had us down and out, Holt wasn’t going to miss out on such an important holiday. Not especially Thanksgiving, the one that brings out the great hearts of people, and demonstrates humanity at its’ finest. This was a great opportunity to teach Holt a valuable lesson, and still make him feel important.

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When he got up Thursday morning, I told him to get dressed, and we were going to start in the kitchen. He loves to help cook, so he gladly agreed. We cut up peppers and onions, and then got out deer back-strap from the buck that Holt just recently shot. His favorite food to eat and make is deer meat shish-ka-bobs on the grill, so that’s what I told him we were going to do. His eyes lit up. We got everything together, and Holt helped put it all together on the skewers. Then Kevin put it all on the grill with Holt. Then, when they were done, the guys brought them back in.

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Then I asked Holt what was Thanksgiving about. He started his 8 year old version of the Pilgrims and Indians, being thankful, etc. I asked him if he had noticed what mommy and daddy and Tuckyr could be thankful for that Holt had done for us. Then I explained to him that not only did he provide food for us by the buck he had shot, but he helped with every part of it. He harvested the buck, like the Pilgrims and Indians did the turkeys, he helped clean it and cut up the meat, and he helped prepare it. He created our very own Thanksgiving dinner, and it didn’t have to be turkey at a party. It was all because of Holt. He was so excited that now he wants to do this every year. I told him that sounds like an awesome new tradition.

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When I say “Born Again Thanksgiving,” I truly mean it, because I have a renewed faith in the future if there are more children that can think like Holt, and care as much as he does. I am truly thankful for my family and sons, and hope they continue to grow into incredible, young, outdoorsmen as they are, providing food and new traditions for their own families, all because of their outdoor experiences.