I am overwhelmingly grateful this year. I mean, the world is falling apart, but MY HOUSE is fine. Isn't that the attitude we're being told to have? Big yikes. Hygge WITH the xenophobic nationalism.
Seriously, though, I am grateful for my health and family and the impossible sweetness of Minnie. But also, the world is in shambles, and it's a not great message to tell everyone to focus on the good inside their own homes at the exclusion of everything else. But maybe just for a day?
The kids and I looked back through all of their first Thanksgivings today:
I should note that they did not recognize young and pretty me. THE ASSHOLES.
Selfishly (really how is all gratitude not selfish today?), I am glad this year is so different because my grandma's house is just a memory now, and my dad is still gone. If things were normal, I personally would be so much sadder. In some ways, it comforts me that we have apocalypse Thanksgiving because I miss Bomma and Jack and their house and my dad so much today.
We had a wonderful time cooking and prepping yesterday, and Jack was so, so helpful. I was overwhelmed with all of the tasks, so instead of being all shitty to everyone, I made everyone help all day long, and it was EASIER and MORE FUN with the kids. Weird. Jack even said he will come home from college EARLY to help me cook. So, so, so sweet.
But! Onward with turkey headbands and dinner crafts and Thanksgiving dresses passed between sisters, and THREE DESSERTS.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends.
Missing a parent never, never, never gets easier. Hoping you will find tiny human moments to tuck into the holes of grief.
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