We Will Not Regret The Past Nor Wish To Shut The Door On It – Thanksgiving 1982

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Have you ever taken a loved one for granted, assumed they would always be there when you needed them, told yourself you’d call tomorrow, but tomorrow never came? That’s what Thanksgiving 1982 was for me. I was a sophomore in college and smack dab in the middle of a bad case of drug addiction. The following is an excerpt from my book Stonewall to Obama. 

You know the end is near when they convert the formal living room into a bedroom. We were all home from school for Thanksgiving. Mom told me that Grandma was not well and no longer had the strength to climb the spiral staircase to the second floor and her bedroom. So, the housekeepers had moved the furniture around and placed a bed in the middle of the football field sized living room. There Grandma was, propped up in her bed, overlooking the Steinway. 

“Hi Gram,” I said. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” “It’s not serious. Really, I’m fine,” she said. How’s your playing going? You have to find time to practice if you’re going to make it to Carnegie Hall.” “It’s going ok,” I lied. “But, it’s hard to find a piano to practice on at school.” I sat down at the Steinway and attempted to play ‘Evergreen’ which I knew was one of Grandma’s favorites.

“I’m a bit rusty,” I explained. Really I hadn’t played the piano in over a year. But, I didn’t want to let Grandma know that drugs and alcohol had started taking away from my life. That would break her heart. I stumbled through the piece and Grandma applauded. “Playing the piano is just like riding a bike,” she said. “Once you know the basics, they can never take it away from you. You’ll get it back. You must practice, Culver – Practice, practice, practice! Remember who you are.” 

All of the cousins were there for Thanksgiving and we each took turns spending time with Grandma. Dinner was the usual opulent feast. Just like every other year, the housekeeper didn’t scrimp on anything. The silver was polished. We ate off of the gold leaf embossed china and drank from the quartz cut crystal goblets. Fresh flowers were everywhere. It was comforting to know that some things never change – or do they? Perhaps I was too innocent or naive, or maybe I was just in some sort of drug-induced denial. But, the idea that my beloved grandmother was dying completely evaded me. I had no way of knowing that this perfect world that she had created for us would evaporate in less than a month. After dinner all of the older cousins decided to go out. Thankfully the drinking age in New York was 18 at that time. So, we could all party legally. We headed out to Arthur’s Court for a post-holiday evening of debauchery. 16 gin and tonics later, we rolled home. Cousin Rich was hungry and took the entire turkey up to the rumpus room and had his own feast sitting on the pool table. I ended up in the bathroom barfing it all up and then drifting off to sleep with my head against the cool marble tiles of the bathroom floor. As I slipped into a haze, I heard Mom call up to Rich to put the turkey back in the fridge when he was done with it. All and all a great night, no? 

Back at school and finals done for the semester, Mom called to tell me that Grandma had passed away…

I can’t bring my grandmother or her perfect world back to life, but I can honor the values she taught me. This thanksgiving I’m remembering who I am – a child of God with the power of the universe at my fingertips. Thanks Middy for continuing to inspire me to be great.  I miss you so…