David was the first to arrive. We sat on the patio with a glass of wine and goat cheese I had made, dipping in crackers and chatting while we waited for the others. David was slight in build, a Hopi elder, hospice chaplain, ex-priest, well educated, elusive, two spirit, and kind.

It was Thanksgiving 2014 on our rented 1800’s homestead. The fiercely cold weather of the week before that had dipped below zero was tempered and sunny. The golden prairie glistened and warmed. I cooked the entire Thanksgiving feast on a wood cook stove wearing a vintage apron. Our goats and chickens enjoyed the sunny day not far from the house.

Our youngest daughter, Emily with her boyfriend, Bret, and their infant daughter, Maryjane drove up. Later, my friends Thompson and Consuelo came too. As we sat down at our long dining room table in the tiny cottage, we looked around to see who would say grace. I am typically the one who is looked at to do so, but here we had two others that were also used to saying the main prayer. We all looked to Thompson and bowed our heads. His long, dark hair fell across his shoulders and words in a Native language flowed out. His Caddo prayers touched something in all of our hearts, even the teenagers that sat at the table were clearly moved.

After dinner, David and the kids left and Doug and I sat around with Consuelo- who was Thompson’s then girlfriend and a good friend of mine- and Thompson, and over cups of coffee swapped stories about clearing houses and run-ins with ghosts. Vibrant and incredibly clear swing music had been playing through our homestead on a regular basis for all to hear out of nowhere. Doug and I are used to living in “active” homes and helping people clear energies from their own. We weren’t afraid of it, just knew that the path between death and life is quite fluid and spirits can visit at any time. Thompson was a holy man in the intertribal community. When he passed away in late summer this year, he left a lot of us grieving, but he imparted so much wisdom during his time here. Thompson, David, and Consuelo were not just good friends, but powerful teachers to me over the years. They really helped me step in the role that I carry. I am forever grateful for all of them.

As the afternoon faded into a colorful evening sky, the sun setting across the pasture, and our tummies and lives full, Thompson and Consuelo headed home as well. That was a wonderful Thanksgiving.

My book, Tracking the Medicine People, is filled with Thompson’s wisdoms as well as some of my own experiences. It is available on Amazon under Katie Lynn Sanders, or through me.