As I sit and think about Thanksgiving I remember the history we have been taught and much of the history I have learned. With my parents on Cape Cod I drive through Plymouth, Massachusetts every year on my way to and from Thanksgiving dinner. I think about the friendships that were made between the Wampanoag People and the Pilgrims and how the white colonists truly treated the Natives who helped them survive the first year. It saddens me that we are taught such a different story about what Thanksgiving means. To me this is a day to give thanks for the blessings we have and to gather with loved ones and be thankful for the time with them. This is especially true for my family this year since it may be one of the last ones that my father will be truly present as his Alzheimer's is getting much worse.
