Thanksgiving

We are having Thanksgiving at my parent’s house; a house with which I am familiar but not the home I grew up in.  My sister and her family are not here.  Instead, indefinitely,  they are in Panama on a sailboat.  Someone is here in my sister’s place, Cindy.  Cindy used to be my sister’s nanny.  Now she has a family of her own; a husband, baby Grace, and two foster girls.  What must these girls think of our motley crew?  

The foster girls go up to Cindy and give her gigantic hugs.  They are sweet and polite and full of affection. They’ve only lived with her family for two weeks.  I wonder what has happened in their life such that they would end up here.  I do not want to ask, especially not in front of them.  I am in awe of Cindy and her husband and the way they are contributing to our collective whole.  

I listen to their story and realize I could not be a foster parent.  My chaotic and well-lived in house simply wouldn’t pass inspection. But these girls?  Oh I would take these girls.  They are running around with my own girls as naturally as if they were cousins.  For today at least, they are family.  

I am tired, from traveling and from getting up early for fun run. From eating too much.  And from the wine.  

The television is on, football, and I am partially deaf.  This makes conversation difficult.  I find myself saying “what?” all too often.  Middle jumps in and translates for me.  It’s nice to have an interpreter.  

Tonight some knitting.  And some pie.  Tomorrow a movie.  No shopping for me. I can’t handle the crowds.  

And I am thankful.  For food.  For family.  For friends.  For days off work.  I am grateful to those who are working in my place; I’ll pay you back at Christmas when the roles are reversed.  

I am grateful for my senses; sight, touch, taste and smell.  I am grateful for the hearing which remains.  I am grateful for the balance that, more often than not, stays under control.  I am grateful for this body which propels me through this world; a vessel of experience.  

I am grateful for children who require me to step out of the box and to think differently.  I am grateful for other children who allow me to stay in the box, crouched in earthquake position, hands covering the back of my head.  

I am grateful for the internet and connections and opinions right and left.  I am grateful for the kindness of most folks (I'm sorry for the others).  

This life. It's messy and challenging.  It's tiring and worrisome.  It's heartbreaking.  But it is good. Oh so good.  

XO. 

Fire Station 15's Favorite

I need to finish blogging about our trip.  I've been meaning to since we've been back.  But my mind is in other places.  So, for now,  I'll just let my mind be.  Someday I'll finish up my travel notes and daily life will be interspersed with snippets from Italy.

But not today.  Today I'm thinking about my Grandmother.  I've got a little project in mind and asked my mother to send some of my Grandmother's handwritten recipes.  They arrived this afternoon.

My favorite recipe is one written on plain paper.  It's a recipe for green bean casserole, the kind found in just about every household on Thanksgiving; two cans of string beans, a can of cream of mushroom soup, a 1/4 can water chestnuts and a can of french fried onions.

I remember this recipe well.  My grandmother made it, my mother made it, I make it.  I've altered it a bit.  I add a squeeze of lemon (I think my mom does too) and I use the whole can of water chestnuts.

But what touched me today was not the recipe itself but the title "Station 15's Favorite."  You see my Grandfather was a fireman.  I suspect he spent many a Thanksgiving serving his community. And I can just picture my Grandmother delivering her casserole to the firehouse; a little something special for the men working the holiday.

I, too, had to work on Thanksgiving.  And I realize that, though our service is different, I am following in my Grandfather's footsteps with my holiday schedule.

At my Grandparent's house we always celebrated Thanksgiving on the Saturday after the actual day.  My Grandfather was retired by that time so I don't really know why Thanksgiving was scheduled as such.  But I do know it was special; family, food, gathering.  The day didn't matter.  The act did.

This recipe reminded me of two things.  First -- it is gratifying to serve.  Though I might moan and groan, working the holiday is good for our community.  Pets do not get sick on schedule and they need medical care.  I'm glad I was there to help them.

And second --Thanksgiving is important.  Gathering friends and family.  Taking time to be grateful and enjoy each other's company.  Solidifying memories for generations to come.  The day doesn't matter.  The gathering does.

This year our Thanksgiving was quiet.  The five of us around our table (a rarity indeed).  And yes -- I served green bean casserole.  I'm glad I took the time to cook and to gather my family. My Grandparents were at the table with us, their spirits wrapped up in green beans and soup.  You see it's not just a simple casserole.  It's family and community.  It's the past, present and future.  It's everything there ever was and everything ever to be.

Oh the humble green bean.

Happy Thanksgiving!

xo.

Thankful

At this moment I'm tucked into the couch. I'm wearing my bathrobe and have got woolen socks on my feet. Miracle on 34th Street, the original, is playing on the television. I'm sleepy. I got up early to run, well sort-of, my daughters and I ran/walked the chilly 5K course.

Soon I'll be going to work. I do believe coffee is in order. Despite the fact that we're not celebrating the holiday in the traditional way I am thankful. Very thankful indeed.

I am thankful for precocious children, joyful dogs and loving cats. I'm thankful for walls and a roof and insulation. I am thankful for indoor plumbing and hot showers. I am thankful for food on the table, sharp white cheeses, crisp white wines and warm ciders. I am thankful for a body and can shuttle me to and fro with only minor aches and pains. I am thankful for pajamas and slippers and down comforters. I am thankful for knitting and wool. I am thankful for books and the library. I am thankful for my computer, my camera and internet. I am thankful for a husband who today is doing laundry and, at this very moment, is brewing me that coffee I so desire. I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life, both virtually and in person.

And last, but not least, I'm thankful I look a touch better than this 'ol turkey.

Have a wonderful holiday all!

XOXO.