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Spirit of Thanksgiving Past

O, noble Spirit of Thanksgiving Past,
You are a very strange yet gracious host!
Of course the thought of going back brings joy—
To see my life when I was just a boy!
So guide me as an insubstantial ghost
And through a mist we’ll watch this fond repast,
Revisiting the childhood that was mine
In late November, 1969.

We fly through wind and rain, past moon and sun.
The stars streak backwards madly through the night.
And now I see myself! I’m not yet ten!
I’m glued to the TV. Remember when
We had four channels (some still black and white?)
The Macy’s big parade is almost done.
I’ve aced my homework—or at least I’ve tried,
And pretty soon I’ll meet my friends outside.

It’s just past twelve; I’m with my closest buddy.
We have no cell phones, only bikes and guts.
We’re astronauts—our rocket ship is splendid!
We circle ‘round the Earth just like John Glenn did.
We’re bored. We ride our bikes through trails and ruts.
We manage even though its slick and muddy.
We sing songs by The Beatles and crack jokes.
Before we part, we toast the day with cokes.

Late afternoon. Our kitchen smells like bliss.
I see my mother. She’s so young and able!
She stuffs the turkey—no one’s gluten free.
She makes a green bean casserole. Then she
Makes mashed potatoes; then she sets the table.
She has me put out forks. I dodge a kiss.
She has me help her bake the pumpkin pie.
I cannot bear to know how soon she’ll die.

And soon we’re called to dinner for the feast.
I sit beside my older brother, Jack.
He’s skinny! Gosh, his humor is deranged!
Oh, Jack! It’s years before we are estranged.
Before fraternal ties begin to crack
And you move west while I move farther east.
And Joan! My sister who has every answer!
She just last year had surgery for cancer.

My dad now enters dressed up in his best.
I can’t believe that he was ever young!
That’s him before mom died and he got sick!
His arms are strong; he’s tougher than a brick.
His Camels have not ruined either lung.
His skin is tan; he wears a Sixties vest.
He makes us bow our heads as we say grace.
I can’t… O, Spirit let us leave this place!

My father toasts the miracles that are
And all the wonders that are yet to be.
He says in 50 years there will be peace;
That war, disease and hunger will all cease.
He says he hopes Mankind will truly see
The world as God must see it from afar.
We say “to life;” then gorge on our repast.
I sob aware that none of this will last.

O, vicious Spirit of Thanksgiving Lost,
Why must you show me shadows of such sorrow?
These precious moments all of us ignore
Unmindful that there soon may be no more?
Today provides no promise for tomorrow
And slighting such rare gifts comes at great cost.
O, Spirit, please return me to the present
And help me know each moment is God’s present!

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Brian Yapko is a lawyer who also writes poetry. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

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24 Responses

  1. Paul A. Freeman

    I read A Christmas Carol every year and appreciate all the effort put into this piece to make it follow a similar story arc with numerous references to the most filmed book ever.

    You’ve also made your poem sound fresh and modern by choosing a different festive holiday and time frame.

    Thanks for the read, Brian.

    Reply
      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you, Paul! It was indeed a happy day. I don’t know if you celebrate an American-style Thanksgiving where you are, but every day is a good day to give thanks! In that spirit, Happy Thanksgiving to you as well!

    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much, Paul. I’m glad I was able to make a Dickens-inspired piece seem fresh and modern (at least to some extent.) Is A Christmas Carol truly the most filmed book ever? That would not surprise me. My personal favorite version is the 1951 Scrooge with Alastair Sim. He’s the only Scrooge I’ve seen who actually brings tears to my eyes.

      Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    That is such a beautiful remembrance of Thanksgivings past. It flows with sincerity and feelings that we all have when looking back on such special occasions with family and loved ones. Bless you for sharing this and Happy Thanksgiving in the present.

    Reply
  3. Cynthia Erlandson

    What a deeply moving poem, Brian! The early verses are a beautiful recollection of happy times (and fun rhymes, like splendid/Glenn did!) Then, the vision transitions to sad and tragic times, beginning with the (apparentlly unexpected) death of Mother, and the growing grief of loss and heaviness of spirit, until “O vicious Spirit of Thanksgiving Lost”. Happiness and sadness are both vividly expressed.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Cynthia! I’m glad you appreciated the progression of experience and thought within the poem. The speaker is happy to relive care-free memories but this simply cannot be sustained given that he knows the harsh events that must take place in the future. We don’t know what the future holds but we can certainly appreciate the present!

      Reply
  4. Julian D. Woodruff

    A really evocative poem, Brian, with appropriate emphasis on holidays as occasions for remembrance. You got me started thinking of my family’s gatherings from about the same period. (Maybe a poem or 2 will emerge.)
    I am so impressed with the regularity yet apparent freedom you manage–as if your recounting of details had just happened to fall into the pattern the poem exhibits.
    Also the use of slant rhyme, the careful arrangement of feminine line endings, and above all the return to “past” in the 7th stanza and the closing repetition of “present” show you as a master of construction but with a clear eye to expressive effect. A memorable celebration indeed!

    Reply
    • Julian D. Woodruff

      I forgot to mention that clever rhyme “splendid” / “”Glenn did”: when did anyone think of a better?

      Reply
      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you for this as well, Julian! Yes, that “splendid/John Glenn did” rhyme tickled me quite a bit when I wrote it. Plus, I’ve always loved the Space Program and so there’s a certain personal authenticity to this particular vignette. I used to pretend that I was an astronaut and would play all kinds of “Lost in Space” games with friends (“Star Trek” was a bit too cerebral for 8 and 9 year olds.) The great thing about 1969 is also that this was the year of Apollo 11 and the first landing on the moon. If I could have found a way to shoehorn that momentous event into the poem I surely would have!

    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much indeed, Julian, for this generous comment. I’m pleased that you’ve started thinking about your own familial experiences! I look forward to your resulting poem(s).

      I’m also grateful that you took the time to analyze the poem’s various features. I too was particularly pleased by that closing couplet in which I got to use “present” as a homonym of itself. Rhyming a word with its own homonym is something I’ve never done before and I wasn’t 100% sure it would work, so I’m glad to know that it did.

      Reply
  5. Geoffrey Smagacz

    Very touching poem, even heartbreaking, especially if all of these details are true. If they’re not, extra kudos to you for its verisimilitude. The rhymes and meter are done so well that it doesn’t call attention to itself. BTW, all four channels were showing the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. That’s my recollection anyway.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Geoffrey! To answer your question, as is true for many writers, the details I’ve written are inspired by real-life experience but have been much fictionalized. I agree with your recollection — if memory serves, the Macy Thanksgiving Day Parade was on all four channels, which I believe were ABC, CBS, NBC and PBS. Now we watch “smart” TVs which have a dizzying array of channels through internet (Roku, Hulu, Netflix) along with cable (HBO, Showtime, etc.) and nothing shown is as good as TV was in the late sixties/early 70s!

      Reply
  6. Hari Hyde

    Thanks for this Thanksgiving gift. I felt like the Spirit of Thanksgiving Lost chauffeured me along through every line to the perfect ending. “God’s present” is perpetual.

    Reply
  7. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Brian, this poem of joy, nostalgia, pain, realization and perspective is perfect for this year’s Thanksgiving. In a time of discord – a time that threatens every aspect of our culture – you have me tuning into your plea in the closing couplet and looking in exactly the same direction. Your beautifully wrought and carefully considered poem brought tears to my eyes… such are the power of your words. Happy Thanksgiving!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much for this lovely comment, Susan! The discord of these times is very much a subtext of this poem — particularly the father’s toast to the wonders of the future 50 years hence (i.e. NOW.) Peace on Earth, freedom from war, disease, hunger… not bloody likely. And to think these things were possible was quite naive. Still, that’s not the point of the poem, whose argument is that we impoverish ourselves if we do not appreciate each moment and relationship while we have them. I’m so glad that this poem and its message moved you.

      Reply
  8. Margaret Coats

    A tear-jerker with powerful messages, Brian. Because Thanksgiving dinner is a regular, shared experience for you and most readers, you invite each one in his or her own way on this time travel voyage (a specialty of yours). You show us the view in “the stars streak backwards madly through the night,” which is my favorite line. Do you realize you as poet become the spirit of Thanksgiving past? Your picture of your day in 1969 takes us to your home and our own. It is nostalgic until the moment of grace. Prayer is the dramatic moment when you try to step into the scene but can’t.

    That’s the central point of the poem’s structure; Julian Woodruff has noted its other graces. I’ll add that each stanza rhyme scheme abccbadd is a forward-and-back sestet with couplet for conclusion.

    You remind us on this Thanksgiving Day to give thanks for past and present (indeed for all precious moments) and for the power of the soul which is memory. Thank you for all you’ve said.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Margaret, I’m grateful for this generous comment which really strikes to the heart of the poem’s meaning. To be honest, I did not realize that I as the poet became the spirit of Thanksgiving past but I now see the truth of this observation! Isn’t that amazing? But in a sense that’s what we all do as poets — we lead the reader into an experience that we hope will make them think or at least move them. I’m also glad that you as reader accepted the poem’s suggestion of what we should remember always: what a blessing it is to be alive, to have family, to have health, to have faith. These are precious things which it would behoove us to not take for granted!

      Reply
  9. Joshua C. Frank

    Brian, this is great! A real tearjerker, though. I’m old enough to remember a world like you describe (except the astronauts had long since had their day), so I could identify with the nostalgia for “righter times,” to use one of my own lines. Also the family members leaving the world one by one until decades later when they’re all gone. I wanted to write something along these lines but couldn’t take the sadness.

    Is this poem autobiographical in all the details?

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much for reading and commenting, Josh! “Righter Times” is a great term and one I must start to use! This poem is inspired by autobiographical details but is not strictly autobiographical. My mother, for example, lived to be 87. However, my father did get lung cancer from smoking three packs a day for decades and died at the age of 69. And my sister got leukemia before she died three months ago in September. When I was a kid, I did pretend to be an astronaut and lived in a Michigan suburb with access to all kinds of forest trails which made for fun if muddy biking. Most of all, I remember my dad being an almost Pollyanna-like optimistic: that all humanity needed was more time in order to conquer all of its challenges. If we could get to the Moon we could do anything! But he had a very imperfect understanding of human nature. And given how things have turned out, I’m sure he’s turning over in his grave.

      Reply
  10. Michael Vanyukov

    Poignant and nostalgic, even for me whose connection with this holiday is much weaker.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much, Michael. I’m glad it moved you even without that connection. The holiday is quintessentially American, but I hope its call for “an attitude of gratitude” has more general appeal.

      Reply

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