thanksgiving

when i think of thanksgiving, i think of my uncle. his personality, and his stature, were larger than life and he infused that into everything he did. thanksgiving was the perfect venue for him to gather us together for a day dedicated to family. he was always had a story to tell, and we loved nothing more than listening to how he tracked down the fancy organic turkey, why he was making an apple pie from scratch, or how to use his new electric craving knife.

when i arrived for the big day each year, the group of people was eclectic and always seemed to change a bit from the previous gathering. anyone was welcome and everyone who came was made a part of the family -- no matter what their last name. even though my mom and dad divorced over twenty years ago, she still attends thanksgiving with his family. once the merrill clan gets you, you are there for life.

before the meal, there was always some project for the men to do -- and it usually had to do with my uncle's boat. there was always a chance, if the weather wasn't too cold, that we could go for one last boat ride of the season. then the men would work outside as the women sat inside gazing out through the wall of windows that looked out on the backyard, the dock, and the ocean. we would munch on snacks until we got bored of watching them work and returned to our own conversations.

once we sat down for the meal, my uncle always had a conversation topic that he wanted to bring up. he usually launched into it after we had stuffed ourselves with food but were still sitting around the table waiting for my dad to finish his last plateful of turkey. one year, he wanted to talk about the bird flu. we all scoffed and rolled our eyes. why were we talking about the oversensationalized flu? but as a trustee of a local university, he was worried about what his school had to do to prepare in case of outbreak. so we all thought about it a little more and everyone was encouraged to contribute. i wonder if any of our ideas are being implemented today at that university with the advent of the swine flu.

if christmas represents a spirit, thanksgiving represents ideals. it is accessible to anyone in america who chooses to celebrate. it reminds us of pilgrims who struggled through a long harvest to reap a successful crop. it forces us to think about how the pilgrims treated the natives. it inspires us to treat our neighbors like family. it allows us the opportunity to share passion and work ethic with our best friends. it pushes us to have conversations about things that we might not normally think about. thanksgiving is inclusive, hardworking, and thought-provoking.

when i think of thanksgiving, i think of my uncle.

choices

within the past month and a half, two of my co-workers have given their two weeks notice. resignations happen all the time, but there was something different about these co-workers. i knew victoria first. she was just settling into her cubicle when, on my first day, i found my desk directly across from her's. she had also just graduated and was about a week into her job as an assistant in the media editorial department, while i was starting as an assistant in media production. the other co-worker, sasha, eased her way into my work life. as a new assistant in the new york version of my department, we found many occasions to exchange emails and instant messages.

over the next two and a half years our relationships ebbed and flowed. due to an office reorganization, i moved away from victoria's cube, so our conversations waned. promotions and department reorganizations meant that sasha and i talked about work more and more and our conversations slowly moved from work to life to philosophy. that meant that when sasha texted me to tell me she gave her notice, it was no surprise. we had already had long conversations about the pros and cons of what this move would mean for her career and her life, and how the transition would be easier for her and everyone who worked here if she stayed on to do a little freelance work.

as a freelancer, sasha went into the new york office a week or so after her last day to impart some of her knowledge on to others. i was sent to new york that day to try to suck some of that information back to our department in boston. after a long day of travel and meetings, i returned to penn station and was waiting for my train when i felt a tap on my shoulder. it was victoria, who was also returning to boston after doing some work in the city.

through our three and a half hour train ride, victoria and i caught up on life as well as what was going on on the other side of the office. we shared our love of the company as well as some frustrations, and talked about exactly what we could do about it -- including looking for new jobs. over the next few weeks, victoria dutifully updated me on her progress. so again, it came as no surprise today when victoria gave her notice.

then there is me. i could just as easily have left like the two others did, but i decided to stick it out. i think victoria made a great decision, i know that sasha is thrilled with her new life, and i am happier than i have ever been in my current job. there are differences about our situations, of course, but in the grand scheme of things, we were all given the same opportunity -- an assistant position in a textbook publishing company, and ended up in completely different places.

robert frost writes of taking the road less traveled. he writes:

though as for that the passing there

had worn them really about the same,

and both that morning equally lay

in leaves no step had trodden black

he says that each path was worn the same, so how could he have also taken the road less traveled? his road isn't the single choice to go one way or another. i could have easily gone the way of victoria, and sasha could have easily stayed with the company. instead, it is the combination of choices that each one of us makes to define our lives. when confronted with a choice, we are forced to choose one path or another. it is those choices, those paths, that then make up the road of our lives. my road is less traveled because it is mine and no one else's. it is a poem about how each life is different. it is a poem about how three twenty-something girls could take the same opportunity and end up in three different places.

maine

On Tuesday, Maine had a chance to make history. My home state could have become the first state in the nation to approve same sex marriage by popular vote, rather than legislative or judicial action. Instead of blazing a new trail, though, Mainers voted to stick with the status quo and repeal a law signed by the governor allowing people of the same gender to marry. As someone still registered to vote in Maine and voted to keep the law in tact, I have a mix of emotions. I am disappointed in the voters, I am frustrated with the tactics used by the other side, and I question the legitimacy of a system that allows the majority to vote on the rights of a minority. Through all of these feelings, though, I still love the state that I grew up, and take offense to those who judge us based on this vote.

Maine was a great place to grow up, and I can only appreciate that now that I have moved away. The pace of life is easy, the people are honest and hard working, and the scenery is beautiful in every season. When I lived there, I took the state for granted. Like many teenagers, I thought it was boring. It seemed that nothing exciting ever happened. After I moved to Boston, I started to appreciate the state. Now when I go home, I take one look at the oceans, the mountains, and the forests and realize all that Maine has to offer.

More than anything, though, the best thing about Maine is the people. They live in Maine because they like that life is a little slower and a little prettier than anywhere else. The slowness I mistook as boredom was actually relaxation and contentment. They welcome everyone -- tourists, out of state family members, friends -- with open arms and a lobster dinner. They work hard but know time spent with family is most important. They believe in their own views yet treat everyone with respect. Even though I don't live in Maine any more, there are still the values that I grew up with and shape the way I think. That is why I will always consider myself a Mainer.

While I thought that Mainers would see that upholding gay marriage was a way to treat everyone with respect, it looks like we aren't there yet. Nothing has changed in my love for Maine, though, or its people. Most people I know from Maine who wanted to uphold the law have expressed disappointment with the decision, but very little anger. Those who are happy with the decision are not gloating, just expressing content. The bitter campaign battle (that was heavily influenced by forces outside the state), has caused some in the state to be hateful, and that makes me sad. It is only those "from away" who have added hate into the discussion. They say that Maine "sucks" or that they are "disgusted" with the people. Mainers need to remember what we have in common instead of what separates us. Being from Maine means a lot more than voting yes or no and our history of respecting people who have different opinions should not change with this vote. Instead of focusing on the people of Maine, shouldn't we realize that this could happen in any state? It’s more effective to start figuring out a way to change a society that believes that same-sex marriage is wrong, than to blame the people of Maine for voting.