Start the Presses: Travel, Thanksgiving and other musings

The return trip from Pennsylvania to Napa offered plenty of time for reflection — perhaps too much time. There’s something about the monotony of a cross-country flight that leaves space for thoughts to tumble over themselves. As the engine hummed and the seatback tray in front of me jostled just slightly with every minor bit of turbulence, I found myself replaying moments from the Thanksgiving weekend like scenes from a favorite movie.

All in all, it was just great. My girlfriend’s family welcomed me warmly, their table a collage of traditions both familiar and new. Meeting her youngest sister and father for the first time was a reminder of the power of shared meals to bridge gaps between strangers. We swapped stories, learned little quirks about one another, and played seemingly endless games of “Catchphrase.” 

I think that’s the essence of Thanksgiving — or at least, what it should be. In a time when we’re all so quick to dig in our heels, whether at the dinner table or on social media, it’s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. Feeling heard, feeling valued — that’s what brings people together. And if Thanksgiving doesn’t teach us that, then what will?

Of course, my trip wasn’t all philosophical revelations and heartfelt toasts. Travel comes with its own set of challenges. Flights were packed, delays were abundant, and there’s nothing like a crowded airport terminal to make you question the phrase “holiday cheer.”

But even in the chaos, I caught glimpses of the good: strangers helping each other hoist luggage into overhead bins, an elderly couple holding hands as they navigated the gate area, and a toddler squealing with delight at the sight of airplanes outside the window.

Back in Napa, it feels good to settle into the rhythms of home again. The crispness of the air and the golden light across the vineyards remind me why I love this place so much. But there’s something different this time. I’ve brought back a renewed sense of connection — not just to my girlfriend’s family, but to my own traditions and what they mean.

I also managed to catch up with a few cousins during the trip. Now in our 40s and (gasp) 50s, we share worries and obligations we didn’t have in previous decades: mortgages, kids in college and aging parents. My uncle may be a bit slower than he used to be, but during a dinner at a brewery near his home in north Philadelphia, the warmth and the laughter carried as much as it ever did before. 

And then there was time with my friend in New Jersey, who I’ve known since we met in Ms. Wells’ third grade class in suburban San Diego. As with lifelong friends, it was easy to pick up right where we left off, talking about everything and nothing. We listened to Bruce Springsteen on vinyl (as appears to be the law in the Garden State) and drank eggnog late into the night. Being able to spend time with folks like that is just good for the soul – and the reason why we travel despite the cost and headaches. 

Now, as I sit back at my desk, surrounded by the familiar buzz of Napa life, I’m reminded of what I wrote last week: Thanksgiving is a rare opportunity to press pause. The pause is over, but the gratitude it fostered remains. It’s easy to let the holiday slip into memory as we dive headfirst into the frenzy of December. But what if we carried a little bit of Thanksgiving with us every day?

That doesn’t mean turkey sandwiches for weeks or forcing gratitude where it doesn’t fit. It means finding moments to tell people they matter, listening when someone needs to be heard, and appreciating the small, unexpected kindnesses that punctuate our days.

As the holidays roll on and the calendar inches closer to a new year, I’m holding onto that spirit. Thanksgiving reminded me that togetherness isn’t just a holiday ideal — it’s something we can choose to cultivate every day, even in small ways.

So, whether you’re still working through leftovers or fully immersed in holiday shopping lists, I hope you’ll pause and find a moment of connection. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to matter.