I Will Enjoy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is just a week away. On Facebook, several of my friends are posting an item a day for which they are thankful. Friends are posting about Christmas shopping. Stores are having sales on turkeys and all the fixings that go along with them. Everywhere is fun and excitement and eager anticipation.

I am not. This time of year has been difficult for me for years. Thanksgiving of the year 1998, found me feeding my 23 year old husband a small amount of turkey and the mushier side items while he reclined in our bed. He tried several times to spoon food up to his mouth but each time the utensil would fall away losing its load. I sat beside him. I took the spoon. I asked what he wanted first. He told me the name of one food. My memory refuses to allow me to recall which. I scooped it up. He said no. He wanted that one. I tried again. After three attempts to give him the item he kept requesting, I asked him to point. He had confused the names. The item he requested was on the other side of the plate. 

My prayers became simple. I only wanted God to help him through the holidays. I did not believe his grandmother could deal with his dying so close to Christmas.

Hilarious things happened during that holiday. Cooking mishaps, literal cat and mouse chases in the living room, all like any other family get together. My husband pulled his aunt and grandmother to the side and gave them very specific instructions. He wanted to get me one last present and it had to be perfect.

That year I got kid style footed pajamas. I don't know where they managed to locate the tweety bird pjs but they were exactly like the ones he and I had joked about before. I could not figure out why no one made the sleeper style footed pajamas for adults when they looked so practical. I always got annoyed at having to find my slippers or sliding around in my socks. Those were perfect.

I admit shock when I opened my present. I could not figure out how anyone would know I wanted them. That was when his aunt told me about their conversation. Our marriage had had more than it's fair share of issues. I knew this perfect present was his way of saying he was sorry and after all we'd been through that he loved me.

He died 21 days after Christmas on January 15^th 1999. He made it through the holidays with a few days to spare.

The holidays are hard for me. I have had many wonderful memories made in the 12 years since. The next Christmas I was remarried and pregnant. The next our first son watched in awe the lights and paper and fun. The next gave us a second son that cooed amongst the presents. The next another pregnancy. The next our first daughter. The next a fourth pregnancy. The next a miracle boy who had to fight to breathe his first week of life. Two Christmases after that welcomed our final child just 9 days prior. I've had more good memories than bad over the years but each season I fight tears as my memories of 1998 entered my thoughts.

Today is such a day. I am supposed to have the “day off” as my dear husband takes the kids on an adventure giving me time to enjoy a cup of coffee and paint the master bathroom. I enjoy the projects in our fixer upper house but many things need to not be assisted by smaller children. I plan those things on my day off and try to toss in a trip to the local coffee house or some reading time.

I called him to ask if I would be intruding on any special plans if I accompanied them today. I don't want to be alone. This year's holiday season comes with the knowledge that my mother has the same disease that took Andy all those years ago. While I comprehend that the situation is different because her immune system is not compromised the way his was, it has still hit me hard. She can be and will be treated and overcome it. I know this but it still doesn't stop the ache in my heart or the tears welling in my eyes. It doesn't stop the urge to curl into a ball and stay there. So I will go with my family on an adventure. I will spend time with the blessings God has given me. I will give thanks for the time I had with Andy and the life I have had.

Today, I will enjoy Thanksgiving.

Seasons

The shadow caught my eye. It was just a small shadow gracefully drifting across the green of the grass. No specific rhyme or reason. I never broke stride as I continued my walk although my imagination blazed. A bird? Drift to left. Which birds were still around? Drift right. Maybe one of the hawks has spotted something I haven't seen? I laughed when the yellow-brown glider enter the top of my view. I watched as it settled to the ground. A flash of dull color in a sea of green. Just a leaf.

A maple leaf destined to drop from it's tree home as autumn swirled around. The tree was going to sleep to await warmer weather and to survive the next season's cold. Seasons. Times of newness and excitement. Times of warmth and growth. Times of harvest and preparation. Times of loneliness and waiting.

God knows when we are entering winter. His divine imagination programed even the trees to prepare in order to thrive again. Preparation isn't always easy. Things sometimes fall away. Things sometimes sleep. Things sometimes die.

That leaf drifted down to me. Earth's time of sleep is just beginning. My winter is finally starting to come to a close. I've waited long. I've battled the loneliness of the cold months. The snow is melting. The harsh winds have stopped their howling. The hope for green and color of spring is growing, warming.

I didn't feel well prepared for such a long season. There were so many times I just knew I would crumble beneath the snow and ice. But my roots are strong, growing in good soil. Even as I pulled into myself, the nutrients I drew in were rich and plentiful.

A branch far too long and large, pulling me over, my pride fell away. Anger dying, cracking and falling piece by piece. The hurt clinging to me as dead leaves unwilling to release finally pulled away in the warmer breezes. Love warming my core. Joy stretching it's way through my branches.

The world around me slows to winter. I race toward spring.