Thursday, November 24, 2016

On Being Grateful

I'm the first one up this morning. Come to think of it I was the last to go to bed too. LUFU: last up first up. It suits me. I need a little solitude on days like today. Days that seem to arrive with an abundance of nostalgia and melancholy. This was my mom's holiday. She loved cooking her traditional meal and gathering with family and anyone who had no other or better offer. Everyone was welcome, and that always added an interesting and appropriate element to the feast that celebrates coming together to share our blessings. My mom was a big-time sharer. I was blessed for her model of open generosity and I'm eternally grateful for the great many things she gave and taught me.


I'm enjoying my coffee and watching the 90th Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade just like my mom always did in between stuffing and basting the bird. I'm not responsible for too much for today's meal, which we'll enjoy with family at my dad's later today. He is the Thanksgiving master now. I have my mom's zucchini casserole ready to take. It's what remains. I'm grateful for what remains...for the memories of Thanksgivings past and memories yet to be made. Today. Tomorrow. Next year.


Last night my cousin arrived in the middle of the night. She missed her connecting flight and had to take a bus from O'Hare. I got up to welcome her and we stayed up with a bottle of wine. This is her first Thanksgiving without her mom and I hate to say it, but I know how much that sucks. Plain and simple. I'm glad she's here and I'm grateful I can be here for her. I miss her mom. I miss my mom.


Today I'll toast loved ones lost, hug loved ones here and celebrate my beautiful blessings.

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