Grateful

It’s early for the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and I find myself standing at the stove. In a certain season of life this might have made me crabby, even a little bitter. There were YEARS of events this weekend. Early mornings, tired kiddos, noisy gyms, aggressive parents… 

Today is different. 

I’m making Silas breakfast. Something I don’t get to do very often anymore, in fact, I can’t remember the last time I did it. It feels peaceful, nostalgic, I sip my coffee, stir the oatmeal and feel my chest constrict with the simple beauty of it all. 

Another Thanksgiving in the books, this year was a quiet one. Simple, solid good company. I did not feel the stress or anxiety of Thanksgiving's past. I hoped for a 2 pm dinner time and only barked a few times to “stay out of the kitchen!”

Thanksgiving much like many of our long-standing holidays has fallen out of favor these past few years. I recognize the complexities of the Thanksgiving origin story.  Like much of human history it is messy, there are conquerors, victims, light and darkness co-mingle. To cut a wide swath of judgment is to leave out the very heart of our humanity, we are complex and seek freedom, often at the cost of others' freedom.  Grateful that now, hundreds of years later we ARE better, progress, while painfully slow at times has been made. I look forward to this one day a year we as a nation set aside to be grateful. A day that requires no gifts, only humbleness at what we are given… what we are able to live, do, and exercise in our very young, experimental country.

It’s always been my favorite holiday, I love nothing more than to gather those I love most around my table. 

Out of all the holidays spent around my table, I believe that Thanksgiving has taught me the most.   At times, these have been hard-learned lessons, like letting go of the idea of perfection… not all dinners will turn out, not all tables will be Facebook-worthy, not everyone will like the way you prepare your yams or mash your potatoes. I’ve learned boundaries… how I allow people to talk to me all year will not suddenly change around the table… or who we surround ourselves with really does have a massive impact on our thoughts and mental health.  One bad apple can indeed spoil a bushel and one invitee can turn a whole table quiet and a week's worth of cooking sour. 

Most often and when we let ourselves see. We can find moments of sweetness in those hard lessons.  Like the joy of the meal being a guest's “favorite” memory of the year, someone who unprompted says a deeply beautiful thing, a prayer that makes your eyes spill over, and the absolute humility of knowing I am underserving of this all… the good, the hard and the burnt pie.

I know I say this a lot… but I feel it so acutely and so often it can't be left unsaid. To live this life daily, to walk in these shoes, to breathe, to experience this family, this life, it brings me to my knees. Who am I to be given such a gift? 

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” goes the Mary Oliver quote

How can you wake up on such a day and NOT be grateful?
 

Grateful for another breath, another chance to do it right, another to love, another to show grace, to welcome, and forgive.

Dear reader, today I am hoping that the leftovers are almost gone, the fancy dishes are all washed and put away till next year. That you have recovered from too much gravy and mostly that you are able to find one thing, even if small to be grateful for.