Reasons To Give Thanks

"Ohhh, okay," I said out loud. My host dad was in the living room, but working at his computer, so it was directed to no one in particular. "It's Paxil."

"So good," he said distractedly. "Hopefully that will be good then."

"Yes, I feel better now, knowing what it is. I like to know what's going in my body, you know?"

"Yes!" he replied, "I'm sure it will be fine! You have taken it already?"

"What? No, I didn't think I had time to go to the Pharmacy."

"Yes, of course you do. The young one is not here..."

"But I still have to come back to make dinner, blah blah blah," I replied, clicking closed the windows on the computer.

"I can cook dinner," he said, "You have your party to go to , no?"

"Yes. You can cook dinner? Really??"

"Of course!! Go to the Pharmacy! Have a nice Thanksgiving!"

"Really?!" I squealed. "Oh my gosh thank you!! Yea!!"

"Of course!! Bon soirée!"

I wised him a good night and ran out the door. I made a quick call to my mom to let her know that I had good luck at the doctor's, and to wish her a nice Turkey Day then slung the bag over my shoulder. In it were my only four forks and two bottles of champagne. I thought briefly how odd it would look if I had been hit by a car then, because in France it was just another day. No real reason to be carrying two bottles of champagne and forks. But then, surely they have seen stranger things.

I stopped at the Pharmacy and had the luck to approach the Pharmacist who spoke near perfect english. His family lived in L.A. he said. This was the explanation the presence of the word "gotta" in his english vocabulary. I didn't feel the need to talk to him about Thanksgiving, but felt distinctly connected to the U.S.. Like maybe he was just an immigrant here too.

I hopped on the bus to chez Sarah full of my blessings.

When I arrived she was I suspected - up to her elbows in Thanksgiving. She had it under control and so offered me a drink instead, but I milled around the kitchen, sticking my fingers in the potatoes and offering to carry and spice and arrange whatever I could. I could not not help. Her husband fiddled with the Christmas music and set up his T.V. with a lovely display of turkeys copping an attitude. People arrived.

And then more people. And more. And more. Everyone who had RSVPed showed up with a dish of food (or three!) and a bottle of wine (or three!). Most of us were Americans but there were a Canadian and an Australian thrown in for good measure, along with the various French husbands. None of us had a problem sharing our holiday with the other nationalities because, in fact, wasn't that what it was all about in the first place?

By nine o'clock we had en massed more food than could possibly be consumed, but we definitely tried. We were all a light with drinks and jokes and the warmth of sixteen people crammed into 40m2. People sat on the floor and arms of chairs and didn't think twice about it, so merry to be with one another on what every one can easily say is the best, true American Holiday.

At some point, some one remembered the tradition of actually giving thanks out loud and the room took turns being thankful for each others presence, for blogging (what brought most of us together) and of course for the generosity of Sarah and Gui for letting us all be together on the cold night in France. While all the other French families were passing a regular Thursday night, we were having a veritable feast.

I said a silent thank you for the doctors I have seen in the past two weeks and the new meds nestled in purse; and then a thanks to all of the people in my life who were happy to still have me there, who have been looking on in support even when they couldn't do anything, patiently waiting for me to come out of the darkness. I said a thank you for my family who I knew were eating then too, on the opposite side of the pond, whom I know now more than ever are the most important people in my life.

When every one left the party we stretched our arms out for good old American hugs.

"No bises!!" we said. "It can be so impersonal."

Of course we are all conditioned now so bisous were inevitable, but the hugs were fierce and welcomed.

"I miss hugging!" I said, and went in for another person to wrap in my embrace.

I was home by midnight and made one more phone call to my other sister in Pennsylvania. She told me that she was almost done with her Christmas shopping and I told her about my night. We talked lightly about my return and I didn't mention Christmas. I still don't know what is going on with that but, I felt complete as I pulled my comforter up to my ears and burrowed in for a long winters nap.

The holidays have commenced.