The most amazing little thing happened a while ago. I was thinking about whether I had anything of note to contribute to the TOD, and I decided to pursue what my earliest memories of Thanksgiving might be. The first really distinct memory is from when I was around 6 or 7 years of age. We were living in Whitehall, the then-newest suburb of Columbus, and Thanksgiving was at my grandparents' house on the north side of Columbus. I think we must have spent the night there, and my impression was that the preparation of a turkey required my mom and grandmother to get up, like, before dawn to start on it. An exaggeration, of course, but that's what it was.
So, as I was mulling over that memory and wishing there could be a lot more to it, a part of last night's dream came rushing through like the proverbial freight train. I had just dreamed about that very house, probably for the first time in a few decades. That setting then morphed into another dream that was very distinct and which even developed into a nightmarish moment which is what woke me up. But I hadn't remembered this first part until thinking about the TOD. And so I give thanks to the TOD. Thank you, TOD.