Our Thanksgiving holiday has always started early in the week when Hubby would shop for food supplies, carefully comparing prices to get the best deals. The day before, he would carefully display all of his purchases on the counter so I could "ooooh" and
Our Thanksgiving holiday has always started early in the week when Hubby would shop for food supplies, carefully comparing prices to get the best deals. The day before, he would carefully display all of his purchases on the counter so I could “ooooh” and “aaaah” over them and marvel at his shopping skills. My job was to clean the house, a skill in which I was lacking, but did the best I could. (I would tell him that no one was going to look at the odds and ends under the couch.)
On Thanksgiving morning, he would go to the free breakfast at Dave’s Bar and Grille, and then come home to cook, carefully gauging what time to put the turkey in the oven. With the exception of Francis, who lives in California, our children and their families would come, necessitating adding two, long folding tables and twelve folding chairs against the regular dining room table. A highchair or two would be added to the mix, tablecloths and centerpieces would adorn the tables to make it festive. During the dinner, sitting close together on the rickety chairs always added a jovial tone, elbows touching elbows, as the food was passed around. Thanksgiving would be the only time we would be all together like that, and memories through the years make me smile.
Alas, this Thanksgiving will be different. It is not different because Governor Raimondo told us it will be different, but because we choose to limit our contact during the pandemic that is raging about. It only takes one speck of the virus to pass among us, and I am not taking that chance. There will be many years in the future for full Thanksgiving celebrations, and missing one won’t kill me (although having one might).
It is natural to feel saddened and depressed over this strange turn of events, a situation that has never before affected my life. Instead of focusing on the melancholy, I chose instead to use the holiday to focus on the good things in life for which I am thankful.
Every morning when I get up, the scene outside my picture window enthralls me. The lake is as smooth as glass, with the rising sun mirroring in the water. Often a duck with ducklings can be seen swimming along, the mother quacking quietly to keep her brood in line. If I stand still and look closely, the heads of turtles can be seen poking above the water, gathering air before they slink back down under the water. Fish jump up in an arc, like a mini dolphin show at Sea World. A feeling of peace overcomes me. What a beautiful world we live in!
On the recent cold days, my car rewards me with warmed seats. What a pleasure it is to brave the cold from my front door to the car, only to slink down into the drivers seat and be warmed. My hands may be freezing, but my bottom is happy.
Wasn’t that recent snowstorm amazing? My daughter Marie’s new family frolicked joyfully outside, putting their heads back and letting the snowflakes fall into their mouths like little children. Coming from Louisiana, they had never before seen snow, and their joy reached my heart through osmosis.
I am so lucky to have a job, especially one that is so fulfilling and positive. Hubby is also working, ensuring that our family does not have the financial difficulties of many others in the community. For this, I am especially grateful.
What better delight is there than to have a pet? The dog runs to greet me whenever I walk in the door, and wags her tail excitedly when scratched on her back. It is so rewarding to see her blissful face for doing something so simple.
While I may be heartbroken about the lack of family for Thanksgiving this year, there are many small things that warm my heart. During this devastating virus, it is appreciated that the small things can still bring happiness and joy.