It's easy to take for granted what previous generations have done for us. I don't feel like an immigrant and neither does my wife. Though we were born here in NYC, our families are first generation immigrants from the Dominican Republic. Both Christine and I are literally a few life circumstances away from having been born in another country, never meeting each other, and never having the opportunities that we have been afforded us being born a U.S. citizen. This Thanksgiving, my mother-in-law hosted a dinner for forty family members in honor of a special 91 year old guest: her Father. "Pelito", as he is affectionately known, came to the U.S. for the holiday season from a town named 'Mao' in the Dominican Republic despite his increasingly frail condition. The picture above is of Carlos being introduced to his great grandfather by his mom, Angelica, and aunt, Christine. 
Noella was able to meet her second great grandparent (the first being my grandmother.) When they get older they'll be able to understand the significance of having a connection, however brief, with a generation that made all the difference in their parent's lives. I've recently imagined where I would be today if I was born and raised in D.R.? I probably would have married and raised a family in Santo Domingo or Santiago, would have been a womanizer (common among Dominican males), been owner of some kind of entrepreneurial business, would know some English
and have attained some education, and would have gone into Dominican politics. I can't imagine what Christine would have been doing today? One thing is for sure, our life paths would have been very different.The picture of Baby Alexa on the right was taken by Carlos, her proud big brother (it's one of literally a dozen he took). He doesn't have to say it, but he loves being a big brother and, in his six year old way, is very thankful to have her in his life.
All Adriana's guests, from six months to 91 years old, took part in a great feast that included a 20lb turkey, three roasted pig shoulders (perniles), a whole other baked turkey breast, two huge pots of morro negro (rice cooked with black beans), a tray of lasagna, green salad, Dominican style potato salad, a few dozen Cornonas and Heinekens, and tons of desert (including five pies brought over by Alexa's dad, Alain).
I always look forward to taking time out to celebrate our family, to recognize where we have been, where and who we are today, and what lies ahead for us. In the hustle and bustle of time's passage, one easily takes for granted what is and what could have been. Being thankful is the least we can do, yet giving thanks and providing recognition reinforces our bonds with each other. It's good to remember to do that every now and again....while we still have the opportunity to do so....
