Sunday, 05 December 2010 02:48
With thanks this year in our hearts, we celebrated Thanksgiving three days after my mom's emergency gall-bladder surgery. Thankful for out-patient surgery. Thankful for her resilience. Thankful that she pays attention to her body and heard the pain and went to the doctor. And thankful that it was her gallbladder and not the dreaded C-word. We are so very thankful.
With thanks in our hearts we celebrated, siblings cooking in the kitchen. My brother in from college, with older lines and greater wisdom on his face. And a confidence. I'm still not always sure what to make of it, still taken aback by it. My silly, quiet, complacent little brother is a man now. In a relationship now. And forcing us all to look our ideals and truth in the face and to wrestle. With thanks in my heart I can say that Love still always wins. Six bottles of wine on a table with eight adults laughing around it. My children ran at our feet and, though they hardly ate a bite of the turkey, were coaxed back for pumpkin pie. My six-year-old was proud, serving up the pie he'd made at school. And with thanks in my heart I celebrate his class, his teacher, the joy we've found in the place we've found ourselves. These are the places we are found.
My sister had her boyfriend along. And his helpful hands and quiet nature proved a counterweight to her silly, giggly, childlike spirit. We are thankful for her hopeful heart - her easy wonder and her warm hugs. I am thankful she has experienced so much and journeyed so far. Thankful the road brings her back here, to us, in these special times.
Secretly, and when he's not listening, we laugh together at the ceremony my dad brings to every holiday. We hold hands and pray and he shares a word of history, of serenity, a sacred hush in the busy of our daily lives. But secretly, and when he's not listening, we all hold these moments close. I recognize that his voice will not forever draw us to a quiet moment of reflection and with thanks in my heart I appreciate the bond with which he's blessed us all.
A few days after the leftovers are eaten and the dishes are washed. After Scrabble has been won and lost and my husband has had the chance to show off his new media system to an appreciative crowd (my dad stayed awake past 10 to finish Avatar in HD on the projector... no small feat!) my youngest brother and I share a conversation over text messages. His heart, equally street smart and road weary, equally naieve and brave, is exhausted from hanging out the in the dark crossroads and desires to find a path. I encourage him to believe in himself, remind him that I always have, and ask him to give others the chance to know him. Be honest, you know, that's probably best. Even if honesty is hard it gets you farther. And, of course, you can always change your story but it is always harder than we would like. And I know that he, like the others, will find his way. And oh is my heart ever thankful that I get to watch him emerge stronger on the other side.
There is a sweet comfort in home, in family. In being yourself around the people who have known you the longest and the best. We're all equally screwed up and equally thriving. We have stories of ups and downs and we just "get" each others jokes. We are snarky and crazy and bitchy and funny and sometimes we are quiet and we reflect.
And we are thankful in our hearts.
