And It Was Evening, It was Morning ... Thanksgiving Day

We dined the Turkey Holocaust with friends, as I knew before. Kids were elsewhere, as were grand kids. Felt a sufficiency of my two richest emotions, happiness and sadness, that day.

I wrote to R and M, afterwards:

Thanks for adopting the us Orphans for the Holy Day.

Just like in CAROUSEL:

The vittles, we et,

Were good, you bet,

the company was the same.

Your grandson is a real charmer. And the three girls are full of life.

The Older Folk could learn how to let the guests clean up

especially because y'knows what they say ... Y'kin lead Miltie

to food but you can't trust'im with the China!

Much love ... Howard

Eating with M & R is exactly like eating with family ... no just-for-show deference shown. Their older sons live 2,000 and 10,000 miles away. The oldest grandchild was there at the table (23?), as was M&R's youngest child (not so young anymore? 45) and a niece from Texas (freshman at College). Somehow the conversation turned to the major social issues of our political discourse: abortion, euthanasia, freedom-to-suicide, and same sex unions. 

I admitted -- not being shy --  that abortion had always been a tough one for me since around 1969. My M and I had two kids when one of her friends flew in from Rhode Island, where abortion was not available. M was busy and I was the obvious choice to drive the friend to a clinic. On the way, she asked how I felt about abortion. I answered that I had never thought about it -- one way or another. About 35 years later when we reconnected with the now ex-pat friend, I still hadn't figured out how I felt about the impact such a "choice" might have on culture. As such, I chose to support pro-Choice voices in elections ... figuring that if I couldn't settle it in my own mind, I had no right to settle it for another ... recognizing that some might say that my thinking should involve the fetus, as well.

I don't know. I began thinking about it when I was barely into the Second Quarter and here I am in the Last Official Quarter -- as puzzled as ever ... true to my Pyrrhonian Skeptic roots. The older two young women quickly labeled me a reactionary shit or some such. 

Alas, the older I get, the less obvious most decisions ... most dichotomous decisions ... become. 

But truly, Toto, there's no place like home ...and when your friends' younger Gens can curse you out in front of a visiting niece and a 6 year old, you know you've made it.

(There's a great song from the Broadway staging of Oliver about adoptive families .... "Consider Yourself.")