Distant Relatives

 

November 22, 2021

 

Greetings from the table,

 My distant relatives are from here.  They lived in community with one another and with the nature that provided them life.  They raised families, worshipped a Creator, loved one another, and didn’t ask for much more.  It was a simple existence, nearly primitive.  It was not idyllic.  There was violence and death, there was starvation, children suffered, the eldest barely lived twoscore years.  But it was how they had existed for countless generations.

 My distant relatives are from some other place.  They arrived here after a harrowing journey across a hostile ocean, in ships only slightly worthy of the trip.  Some were escaping oppression, or poverty, or prison, others were looking for a change or a fresh start.  They raised families, worshipped a Creator, loved one another, hoped only for the chance to create a better life.  They brought with them their hopes, beliefs, complex faiths, their own versions of violence, and some novel diseases.

 My mother’s ancestors, clad in deerskin and carrying spears, met my father’s ancestors, wearing heavy broadcloth and carrying muskets, and what happened after was not as pretty as I have been told most of my life.

 Time has built four hundred years between then and now, and myths have formed, which became our truth for generations.  Even when I was younger and I was shown the dissonance between the fables and the truth, it didn’t matter enough.  ‘What difference does it make now?’ I would ask.

 Like most of you, our family will celebrate a moment that we no longer believe, but will do it anyway, because the momentum is irresistible.   We have the turkey, and all the dishes that attend it, and we will make the day one of gratitude, which for me is still the redeeming aspect of the celebration.  We will have a feast to celebrate the victory over hunger, and to acknowledge how my distant relatives put aside their histories and their vast differences and somehow shared what they had with one another.  And there is where it can be a little tricky, since there is only a sliver of truth in that.

 The centuries rolled over the lives and all that occurred between the two tribes has become a fable, one that ignores injustices, and the darker side of humanity.  The people who get to write the history, my distant relatives, have repackaged a war and land theft and the unfortunate bludgeoning of others with pious beliefs.  What we see instead is a Hallmark movie where everyone lives happily ever after the pumpkin pie.

 The Wampanoags and Pilgrims from Europe are not literally my distant relatives, but, like many of you, I am connected to both lineages.  Just thinking of that this morning makes me want to invite both families to my table this Thursday, if not to make peace at least to honor the true history.

 Nothing I will write today will matter to the side of my family whose lives and land were taken by the other side of my family.   I suppose if there is any purpose in raising these thoughts, it is to give some respect to the real story of 1621.  The Wampanoags in the east, and the millions of people who were native to the plains and the lakes and the mountains before the first refugees and illegal aliens arrived.  Their story is part of the Mayflower story too.

 I don’t want to dispose of the tradition of Thanksgiving, which in my heart is a pause to give thanks and to share what we have with others.  I don’t want to take away the fun of the celebration this week.  I like the children making turkeys from the outline of their hand, and the fun runs and the big meal and the nap after.  I want to expand gratitude as large as we can handle it, perhaps starting with Thursday.

 But I also know I need to respond to the other voices from four hundred years ago who ask for someone to recall the truth.  One of the new traditions of this week, along with giving thanks for what we have, will be to ask for reconciliation.  To acknowledge all of the distant relatives, including those that have not been invited to the bounty.

Hope this finds you graceful and grateful,

 

David

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2021 David Smith