The day before Thanksgiving always stands out in my mind for some reason.
About a year ago I mentioned that I had spinal meningitis in the fall of 1977 after turning six, and that my week and a half stay at the hospital had it highs and lows.
I got out of the hospital on November 23, 1977, the very day before Thanksgiving. There was a big gathering at the house the following day, part Thanksgiving feast, part homecoming. Football on the tube, and I remember the Miami Dolphins destroying the St. Louis Cardinals 55-14 that afternoon, the Dallas Cowboys being a rare no-show on the Thanksgiving cavalcade that season.
My dad set me aside at one point during the day and gave me a very early Christmas present: a toy typewriter. You put regular tying paper into it, and it typed what you wanted to say.
But I had a question: why was I getting this gift now? It wasn’t Christmas yet.
I don’t remember my father’s answer. I think they were just thankful I was still alive and well.