I have several jobs on Thanksgiving Day. I'm not much of a cook (okay, I'll admit it, I don't cook at all), so my wife assigns me non-cooking related tasks: set the table, carve the turkey, refill water glasses, help with dishes, those kinds of things. I just completed my last Thanksgiving Day job, which is taking out the trash. This is not a pleasant job. When you pull the turkey out of the oven, it's one of the most appealing sights of the year. When you pick up a garbage bag filled with the turkey carcass and other assorted turkey bones, it's one of life's more disgusting sights. Except for today.
As I tied the top of the bag, using a technique taught to me by a friend more than 20 years ago, I immediately thought of that friend and smiled. We've lost contact over the years, but during that time we've had this interesting connection. Whenever I tie a trash bag (and that happens several times a week), I think of my friend. I should probably use this as an occasion to make a phone call, and maybe I will. Meanwhile, my trash tying experience has brought something to mind.