Haven’t hit that moment yet — well, maybe when the daughters were young. But the obligatory annual photo (via a timed shutter on a tripod) shows how the family grouping has changed and changed, grouped and regrouped. each photo carries embedded memories.

But there never was a bad Thanksgiving. Even when the grouping in the photos showed obvious MIAs — for financial, geographical or behavioral reasons — I always was gratified for those who were present. And thankful.

Dr. Kuczmarski demonstrates great wisdom (although she could use a good proof reader) in her advice: ““It requires a metal (sic) shift to enjoy the emerging adult child and to take pleasure in watching the relationship grown and change. Be open to doing things a little differently.” Good advice, and I will take it to heart.

But I’d drop the “little differently” and go for “a lot differently.” This Thanksgiving, our table will be three — my wife, her 83-year-old mother visiting our home after a 500 train trip, and me, and our food will be Alaskan king crab steamed to delectibility in lemon-infused water. And butter.

And I fully expect this Thanksgiving will be the best ever, and if Norman Rockwell were alive, he’d pick our triumvirate table for his Thanksgiving subject.

All the same though, I won’t be really happy until I have three daughters, three grandchildren, two sons-in-law, my wife and I at the Thanksgiving table. I’d like that.

Dan Miller
Chicago