This Thanksgiving, I am especially grateful that my Dad is still alive, after these frightening roller-coaster few months.  Now, things are settling into a gradual, if at times still bumpy, decline.

Around our table, there were four people over 85, and all in need of home attendants (but only one, Dad (now into his 90s) has someone), 10 people near or over 50 (but younger than 60), and 2 around the age of 10.

I couldn’t help but wonder when and how all those hordes of young children, young-ish parents, grandparents and assorted aunts and uncles and great aunts and uncles of past Thanksgivings vanished, as if in a flash.

Where have all the others gone?  Long time passing.  Where have all our younger days gone?  Long time ago.

But our mothers, our grandparents, our aunts and uncles, great aunts and great uncles — and even the younger versions of us — were all with us at Thanksgiving, reminding us of the past, giving us perspective on the present and, maybe, a little hope for the future.

Happy Thanksgiving.