I would suspect that most of you are expecting some type of Thanksgiving piece from me. Actually, I am expecting it from myself. I expect it, but have no idea what it should be about. I guess I could write about all the things I’m thankful for and believe me there is so much... But I’m not sure I’m at the place yet where it doesn’t sound contrite or self serving. I’ve thanked many people in these blogs and I do understand that I need to continue to thank them again and again. That is the right thing to do but it is also what I feel deep in my heart I must do.
So we all know the Thanksgiving stories… the Indians, oops… Native Americans and the Pilgrims, sorry …displaced illegal residents, turkeys, friendship and football all gathering together to express their thanks for all they have. Gosh I hope people don’t wait until this particular day to tell those they love about all the wonderful things they are thankful for. It would be as sad as waiting until Valentine’s Day to tell the people you love how very much you love them.
Growing up we usually went to my aunt’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. It was ridiculous. My parents are both from good catholic stock and many of their siblings really took the “be fruitful and multiply” thing to the extreme. If my dad’s whole side of the family attended this wonderful dinner, there would be 47 people. That breaks down as the original parents, my dad and his siblings, spouse’s and then all those kids… 30 if I’m counting right. We had the required kid’s table and I’m not sure I ever graduated from there. Actually, now that I think about it, I was more towards the end of the mass procreation cycle. I always found it funny that my aunt finally had that much needed addition put on her house, after the big holiday meals were disseminated to smaller individual family gatherings. But those were great times filled with so much love and laughter. For as silly and goofy as we all were and for how different our families functioned in private, these celebrations were golden moments. Whether I was oblivious or in fact it never happened, there never seemed to be family squabbles or fights at the holidays. I’m thinking today about recent news items that have families having issues during this time of year and taking matters to the extreme. If we ever did have this type of conflict, I think my family’s best revenge was making everyone attend the Christmas meal together and then Easter and so on. That’ll teach ‘em! The food was always great, abundant and really bad for our hearts. Then again, there weren’t heart health warning posted on every food item and we all have seemed to survive. There were the years we were given a little wine with dinner, yep kids too. Was it because they wanted us to feel grown up and sophisticated? Was it so we could appreciate the blessings and toasts more completely? Or was it simply their way of mellowing out the kids so we didn’t fuss and fight? I’m pretty sure I’ll never get a completely honest answer, but it’s a very fond memory. When I was a senior in high school, we had a wild Thanksgiving weekend. My oldest sister was getting married on December 23rd. She was living on the east coast, training for her new grown-up job. Given the practice in those days, she didn’t hop on a plane every weekend to take care of the planning and the festivities. The long Thanksgiving weekend was set aside to not only wrap up the planning, mail the invitations, find bridesmaids dresses for my other sister and I, but we were to also attend 2 wedding showers. One was Friday night, the other a luncheon on Saturday. It was hectic and crazy but in my memory, fun and fabulous. I just so clearly remember thinking I couldn’t wait to get married… all the fuss, all the gifts… my kind of fun! I also remember thinking how far that was in the future. I was dating a guy, well 2; actually I think it was 3 but, whatever. There was no way I would be in this situation for years. In fact, just a year later, give or take a few weeks, I was engaged. How funny is life I ask you? I find it so ironic that my middle sister was probably thinking the same thing… and she was married roughly 8 months later. Hey when the girls in my family know they’ve found what makes them happy, loved and complete, they jump in and grab with both hands. We tend to hold on for the long haul. There was a bit of friction that weekend, just brother/sister sister/sister stuff and nothing to cause concern. We were just all growing up so fast, wanting to be heard and validated. Our little family world was changing faster than we expected. Most importantly we each wanted to be valued. But we were no longer little kids you could hand a coloring book to or give a new board game to and ask that they sit quietly and play. We were the children of 2 really wonderful and unique parents. They say that as each child is brought in to the world, then brought in to the family, they have a different set of parents than the child before or after. I thought this to be a really stupid thing to say. But it’s so true. I think of myself with my daughter. What did I know about being a mom? Who was I kidding? Certainly not her. But when my son came along, I was just that little bit more grown up, more comfortable with myself that I know I mothered him differently and maybe for the first few months, better. So as with me, my parents were the same way. My brother was born when my mom was a relatively young wife. By the time I came along, 3 kids later, she had more knowledge, was a few years older, and knew herself more completely. I would say the same for my dad. He had by then understood more about what he needed to bring to the table to not only meet the needs of his wife and children, but to meet his own needs. I treasure the fact that my husband learned from his own life growing up what he wanted for himself and his children. I didn’t include myself in that statement because that took some time for him to understand what I needed from him. Some of it was because I didn’t tell him but much was because he had a different dynamic in his home. His father passed away when he was a young boy. My mother in law, as the sole breadwinner, worked harder than almost any woman I have ever known. She didn’t have a mate to hold her at the end of the long day. No one at that time was concerned about what made her happy or sad or frightened. She, to my understanding didn’t let her kids know that she needed any of these things either. Back then, a mom didn’t discuss things like that with her children. My husband grew up thinking she was fine, just because she was the mom. I feel so blessed that I was able to spend really good time with her before she died years ago. The stories she told were fabulous and some so out of the character my husband believed her to be, that I never shared them with him. I certainly miss her. I feel so very fortunate that I have both my parents still here to tell their stories. But the Thanksgiving of 1978 was the last Thanksgiving we were all together in the house we all grew up in. Many moves, marriages, babies, divorces and deaths have happened since that weekend. All making us stronger in both mind and spirit.
So now it’s the weekend of Thanksgiving, again. So much has changed. So much is the same. I am still loved by a wild, wonderful Mom and an equally incredible Dad, an amazing brother and 2 indescribable sisters. My circle of love has continued to grown in both membership and substance. I pray that I love more than I am loved. My kids and I jumped though some major obstacles to be together for the holiday. I think we just needed to be close, allowing the ability for a hug or smile, maybe just the brush of a hand, a touch on the back. Flights were canceled, missed, rescheduled in order to get them home to me. I feel selfish wanting them near. As I saw my son walking toward me yesterday when we met up at Ford Field, he was his dad. The same semi crooked smile I fell so deeply in love with was walking toward me. I was caught a bit off guard. The hug was the same as the great hugs his dad gave too. What other wonderful qualities will I come to discover he has from his dad that I may have over looked? Only time will tell. As my daughter came bouncing down the steps to our seats for the Lion’s game, the stadium felt like all the air had been sucked up and the lighting brightened just a bit more… just like her father, she brightens the space she comes into while she takes up all the oxygen in the room. Her joy or angst is proudly worn on her sleeve, just like her dad. I have always been keenly aware of the millions of ways she is like her dad. I know as a mom I should be proud, yet I am over the moon with pride. I love these 2 creatures much more than life itself. We sat down last evening for a meal and had a chat. We talked about what we needed from each other, what we could give each other. We talked about how we miss him. I believe this will be a discussion we have many, many times throughout our lives.
So, what am I thankful for? I could go on and on. But I’m thankful that there are people in my life who love me. People in my life who love my kids. People who loved my husband and still wish to love me even though he is gone. I’m thankful for my husband and all that that allows. I’m thankful for old friends. I’m thankful for new friends. I’m thankful for friends who comfort me but ask that I comfort them as well. I am deeply thankful for unlikely friendships. I am so thankful for my family, all my family. I am thankful to God for allowing me to have 2 amazing kids. I am thankful to my kids, for all they have done and continue to do for me every minute of every day. And finally, I am thankful to all of you who have enriched my life in such an amazing variety of ways this year. I am truly humbled by your love and I thank you. Someday, when the time is right, I hope you can say the same about me.
I hope so…
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