Thanksgiving - The Forgotten Holiday

 

A big bird, family and football, not necessarily in that order, that’s what Thanksgiving means to most Americans. We debate different styles of cranberry sauce, bemoan the way the Christmas shopping season begins earlier every year and celebrate new births and family accomplishments. And we solemnly swear that the day’s calories don’t really count. 

Things are different with my family. I reach for the flowers, and let myself remember loosing Craig Houston Jr. My nephew. Long ago someone taught me to preserve flowers by hanging them upside down to dry. That way the petals stay connected. I can’t be happy about Thanksgiving Day. But I never want to forget the six-foot gentle giant everyone called Little Man.

 

He would have been fourty this year.  Craig Junior was a parent’s dream. Little Man was actually a big bear of a man, just as he had been a big cub of a boy. At 6 foot 6 inches, he was only two inches shorter, and a few pounds lighter than his father, Craig Sr. Smart and kind. Too big for anyone to pick on and too jolly for anyone to fear.  And patient enough to babysit my rambunctious child.

He was the guy people called on when they needed help with their car or a kid’s broken toy. He always grinned and waved you away when you tried to pay him. After graduating high school he decided against college and struck out on his own. Then in 2001 he chose to return to school and became a twenty-one-year-old college freshman. We were all so proud. Until Thanksgiving Day, 2002. Family gathered close. Little Man wanted to have his new girlfriend close, too.

That’s how the argument began. Craig Sr. didn’t want some stranger his son had only known a few weeks at his table. An old-fashioned issue that should have been nothing but escalated into some Shakespearian tragedy. So, on Thankgiving Day, 2002, the passion of youth sent Little Man tearing out of his home, away from his father. That fury probably left both their blood-pressures soaring. It also made him forget the one thing he always carried with him.  

As strong and lively as he was, Little Man dealth with asthma his entire life.  He never left home without his medication. But this time, the family argument made his rush off without it. The argument likely also set the seeds for the attack that hit him later that evening while he spent the holiday with his girlfriend. Family and close friends knew what to do if he suffered an attack. But this girl and her family were unprepared when he collapsed.

That probably made no difference, according to the ambulance crew who brought Craig to the hospital where he was pronounced dead. The massive asthma attack completely closed Craig’s airway and he died quickly. The news did not help his mother, my sister. She literally aged twenty years in as many minutes, until she looked more like my mother's twin. 

 

My sister has recovered, at least outwardly. Time doesn’t really heal all wounds, but the sharp pain has faded into a dull ache over the years.  Last year her oldest grandaughter graduaed from college, she had to be happy about that.  Still, my sister cannot spend Thanksgiving week anywhere near home. We vanishes for a week or so. We all know and understand and wait for her return.

 
Once she is back, we have our own celebration. We pull out pictures and remember all the lives Little Man touched and everything he accomplished in his life. We handle the flowers from his memorial service, flowers so carefully preserved they may last longer than we do. And I remember to cherish the people in my family, because you just never know…

A Favorite Pet. Is It Possible?

By Courtney Pierce

Pets.

At the mention of the word, our thoughts immediately summon images of goofy videos posted on social media. You know the ones: kittens falling asleep in mid-play, puppies that go crazy gazing at themselves in a mirror, or dogs and cats interacting hilariously with babies, squirrels, and birds. These displays alleviate our tensions, a “paws” in the stresses of daily life. We all need an awwwww moment.

We humanize our fuzzy buddies because pets act the way we want our fellow humans to act—fiercely loyal, open with their emotions, and always telling the truth. It simply feels good. Even when pets misbehave or have a mishap, pets come clean and narc on themselves.

A pet’s energy fills a room. Even when they’re sleeping, their meter is running a surveillance system on the family’s well-being. Just when we need some TLC, they’ll crawl into our lap and administer the salve of licking our hands. A return stroke of their fur releases a loud purr or a groan of satisfaction. Miraculously, our heart rates slow with the rush of healing endorphins.

And when we lose a pet, the resulting grief mirrors losing a close family member. This Christmas, our family will be down one important member, our dear Princeton. He crossed the Rainbow Bridge on December 8^th. As a rescue, years ago, we weren’t really sure of his true age, but we did know he was over twenty.

Princeton wasn’t just a cat. He was super smart, full of vocal insistence, and lived to be loved. His silky pure-white fur went with us everywhere, especially on a pair of black pants. Princeton had a big personality and a precocious sense of humor, always underfoot and sneaking into my seat when I vacated to get a refill of something. When I’d return, he’d pretend to be sound asleep with one eye open. Hmmmm . . .

As a result of his albino coloring, Princeton had impaired hearing and eyesight. That didn’t stop him, though, from having a keen sixth sense about everything. He knew every detail of what we said and did while he was “sleeping". An inner atomic clock was precise for our arrival through the front door, meal delivery, and when we woke up and went to bed.

It's been a few weeks since his passing, but I still stroll down the pet food aisle at the grocery store to check out new offerings Princeton might have liked. This, of course, is an act of self-torture to make sure I don’t water down the impact of his death. I never want to forget the enormity of his spirit. I’ve been purposely avoiding removing the leather cushions from the couch to vacuum, simply because I know I’ll find a stash of sparkly balls and stuffed mice.

Out of habit, the front door is never left open when I unload the groceries, so trained am I that Princeton might wander out to the porch. He did a few times, only to stand there and sniff a woodsy aroma riding on the breeze. Extremely spoiled, Princeton knew he had a good deal. He’d stroll back inside with no more than a finger-wag and a nudge.

The humanization of our pets is rooted in their ability to feel empathy and reason at lightning speed. In some ways, pets are more in tune with their animal instincts than we are. Humans are animals too, but in many ways our companions are wiser to the universe’s infinite processes. Animals know when they’re failing and embrace their grand shut-down: refusal to eat or drink, gravitation toward a heat source, quest for sleep, and a quest to be held. This painful reminder of our own human mortality is actually a good thing.

I’m holding on tight to all of these emotions to fuel my development of Big Sky Talk, my latest book project. I don’t want to let go of the pining, that lump in my throat, or the heart squeeze that suddenly comes on.

At the time we lost Princeton, I had a sudden sense of urgency with the realization that time is short. In the spirit of Christmas, I wanted to impact the lives of others in a positive way. Seemingly simple acts of benevolence satisfied my aching heart. I slipped a handmade gift in my neighbors’ mailbox and bought toys to donate to those less fortunate. My sister and I conspired to adopt a Maine Coon kitten named Sally to surprise our 86-year-old mother. Mom had been crushed by the recent losing her cat too. And if Sally should outlive my mother, she will have a home with my sister or me.

In this Christmas season of turbulent times, I am heartened by the rise of human spirit and the renewal that bursts forth from loss. Surely it was no accident that the once-in-800-year alignment of Jupiter and Saturn occurred on December 21^st. This rare celestial event creates a unique and sacred light.

The Star of Bethlehem.

Courtney Pierce is a fiction writer living in Kalispell, Montana with her husband and stepdaughter. She writes for the baby boomer audience. She spent 28 years as an executive in the entertainment industry and used her time in a theater seat to create stories that are filled with heart, humor, and mystery. She studied craft and storytelling at the Attic Institute and has completed the Hawthorne Fellows Program for writing and publishing. Active in the writing community, Courtney is a board member of the Northwest Independent Writers Association and on the Advisory Council of the Independent Publishing Resource Center. She is a member of Willamette Writers, Pacific Northwest Writers Association, and Authors of the Flathead. The Executrix received the Library Journal Self-E recommendation seal.

Print and E-books are available through most major online retailers, including Amazon.com.

Check out all of Courtney's books: 

courtney-pierce.com and windtreepress.com 

New York Times best-selling author Karen Karbo says, "Courtney Pierce spins a madcap tale of family grudges, sisterly love, unexpected romance, mysterious mobsters and dog love. Reading Indigo Lake is like drinking champagne with a chaser of Mountain Dew. Pure Delight."

Coming in 2021!

When Aubrey Cenderon moves to Montana after the death of her father, the peace and quiet of Big Sky Country becomes complicated with a knock on the door from the sheriff. An injured grizzly bear is on the loose and it must be eliminated before it kills again. The sheriff's insistence that she buy a gun for protection will present Aubrey with some serious soul-searching, because the grizzly-on-the-run is hunting her too . . . for a different reason.

Scary Moments

 By Courtney Pierce

There are two types of scenes that are incredibly tough for writers to pull off: funny and scary.  What tickles one’s funny bone or tingles the spine is so personal. Success, though, is when a reader's reaction lingers long after the book is closed. A scene gets funnier or more chilling over time when connections are made to the reader’s own life. Authors write their own truth, personal to us, and the honest truth can be downright hilarious or scary. We can only hope it connects with others.

“Oh my God. My Mom does the same exact thing!”

"My sisters are just like that!"

Or,

“I knew her life would change with that phone call. That's what happened to me.”

The same process is at play for writing a scary scene. When the set up is crafted properly, readers know the moment is coming. The anticipation itself becomes the trigger for a emotional meltdown. And when it finally does strike, something quite unexpected happens—a reveal of new information. Sometimes the most chilling scenes expose raw emotions from the character discovering a raw truth, not from a crazed stalker wielding a machete.

Arousing a deep internal reaction can be scary, both for the author and the reader.

Cover: Rosalind McFarland

In my trilogy series about the Dushane sisters, the main character, Olivia Novack, is obsessed with finding her husband’s killer from a hit-and-run accident. That serious backstory is constantly running in the background, driving Olivia and her two sisters’ crazy antics over three books. Behind the hilarity lurks an insidious antagonist. Even after several years, Olivia can’t let go of what happened to her husband. She's terminally dedicated, obsessive-compulsive, driven, and still in love. By the final book, Olivia releases herself from her self-imposed emotional prison by finally disposing of her husband’s personal affects.

Readers knew this moment had to come for Olivia. It was a scary moment for me as the author to write. I, too, had to let go of a husband, not from an accidental death, but from betrayal. My heart raced when I wrote Olivia discovering something unimaginable in her husband’s wallet, something she’d never known was there. It was a game-changer. I grieved with Olivia, so real were her emotions to me. And readers grieved for Olivia, too, the lump-in-the-throat kind of pain when the truth comes out in the final book.

Everyone can relate to feeling emotionally duped. Betrayal and disillusionment offer Olivia only one of two choices: hopelessness in defeat or empowerment realized in forgiveness. She can’t change the past. She has to move forward in order to live again, love again, and be whole again.

In my new book, BIG SKY TALK, fear comes on two levels: the supernatural and the emotions of loss. The combination ups the ante.

Cover: Rosalind McFarland

Upon moving into her new home in Montana, Aubrey Cenderon begins to experience strange happenings that she attributes to coincidence. It starts with an innocent canoe trip on the lake behind her new house. She could swear she spots a grizzly bear roaming in the brush along the shore. A sudden brew of a thunderstorm sends her home to investigate. No grizzly bear is in sight when she retraces the movement, but a flash of lightening sends her spine tingling when she touches the unmistakable impression of a fresh paw print. It’s smeared with blood. She hadn’t imagined it.

Aubrey makes a call to sheriff Russell Knowles. An injured grizzly bear is indeed on the loose.

With Aubrey’s heightened awareness, she hears movement in the woods. A strange violent wind flails the branches of a single tree, leaving the trees around it still. Waves of water on the lake push to the shore with seemingly no source. The air is calm, eerily calm, except for the whoosh of an eagle’s wings overhead. She senses a presence close by, communicating to her. It is the bear.

All of these events can be explained away as an overreaction until the captured image in her camera picks up only a blue aura. Aubrey can't ignore this confirmation of an alternate reality. 

Committed to finding out the truth, Aubrey's fear sends her into hero mode to protect the bear. The animal is speaking to her through the elements, while the sheriff knows he must kill the bear. His Deputy, a descendant of the Salish tribe, knows exactly what’s going on: reincarnation. There you have the set-up for an emotional show down. To further crank up the heat, Aubrey and the sheriff are falling in love with each other. And a loaded Glock stands between them.

I am currently writing this mid-point scene. Crafting suspense is both exciting and scary, especially when I incorporate the supernatural elements into it. What scares me, though, is the personal emotional truth that I must incorporate into the prose: the loss of my father, the conversation I wished we’d had before his death, and how I would feel if I got the opportunity to talk to him one last time.

One last time.

Love is scary.  And loss of that love is even scarier.

Love’s energy prevails. It rides the wind, falls in the rain, rises in the sun, and bursts forth from a thunderstorm. It never disappears.

Courtney Pierce is a fiction writer living in Kalispell, Montana with her husband, stepdaughter, and their brainiac cat. Courtney writes for the baby boomer audience. She spent 28 years as an executive in the entertainment industry and used her time in a theater seat to create stories that are filled with heart, humor, and mystery. She studied craft and storytelling at the Attic Institute and has completed the Hawthorne Fellows Program for writing and publishing. Active in the writing community, Courtney is a board member of the Northwest Independent Writers Association and on the Advisory Council of the Independent Publishing Resource Center. She is a member of Willamette Writers, Pacific Northwest Writers Association, and Authors of the Flathead. The Executrix received the Library Journal Self-E recommendation seal.

Print and E-books are available through most major online retailers, including Amazon.com.

Check out all of Courtney's books: 

courtney-pierce.com and windtreepress.com 

New York Times best-selling author Karen Karbo says, "Courtney Pierce spins a madcap tale of family grudges, sisterly love, unexpected romance, mysterious mobsters and dog love. Reading Indigo Lake is like drinking champagne with a chaser of Mountain Dew. Pure Delight."

Coming in 2021!

When Aubrey Cenderon moves to Montana after the death of her father, the peace and quiet of Big Sky Country becomes complicated with a knock on the door from the sheriff. An injured grizzly bear is on the loose and it must be eliminated before it kills again. The sheriff's insistence that she buy a gun for protection will present Aubrey with some serious soul-searching, because the grizzly-on-the-run is hunting for her too . . . for a different reason.

Courtney Pierce is a fiction writer living in Kalispell, Montana with her husband, stepdaughter, and their brainiac cat. Courtney writes for the baby boomer audience. She spent 28 years as an executive in the entertainment industry and used her time in a theater seat to create stories that are filled with heart, humor, and mystery. She studied craft and storytelling at the Attic Institute and has completed the Hawthorne Fellows Program for writing and publishing. Active in the writing community, Courtney is a board member of the Northwest Independent Writers Association and on the Advisory Council of the Independent Publishing Resource Center. She is a member of Willamette Writers, Pacific Northwest Writers Association, and Authors of the Flathead. The Executrix received the Library Journal Self-E recommendation seal.

Print and E-books are available through most major online retailers, including Amazon.com.

Check out all of Courtney's books: 

courtney-pierce.com and windtreepress.com 

New York Times best-selling author Karen Karbo says, "Courtney Pierce spins a madcap tale of family grudges, sisterly love, unexpected romance, mysterious mobsters and dog love. Reading Indigo Lake is like drinking champagne with a chaser of Mountain Dew. Pure Delight."

Coming in 2021!

When Aubrey Cenderon moves to Montana after the death of her father, the peace and quiet of Big Sky Country becomes complicated with a knock on the door from the sheriff. An injured grizzly bear is on the loose and it must be eliminated before it kills again. The sheriff's insistence that she buy a gun for protection will present Aubrey with some serious soul-searching, because the grizzly-on-the-run is hunting for her too . . . for a different reason.