Happy Thanksgiving

We finished our feast, which we ate at about 2 p.m.  We were aiming for around 1, as our tradition is to then spend the evening with D of L's sisters, exchanging Christmas gifts.   Given that we had 26 people, and a change of plans at 8 a.m. this morning, involving needing to suddenly have oven space to cook two turkeys, we did pretty well. 

It got a little fraught, and D of L and I had some rare moments of tension.  I hate it when that happens. It makes me feel the same way I have the few times I've been foolish enough to go on a roller coaster: like I'm about ten yards behind my stomach for the rest of the day.  Ugh.

But we got back in sync, and by the time of the meal all was good.  Three tables of family and friends:

And I got to spend time with many of those I love, including "the" great Aunt, my paternal grandfather's youngest sister, who will be 89 in two weeks.  She still lives in her own house, drives herself, and I have to call her at least two weeks ahead to get a dinner date.

D of L's parents have been gone for a long time.  Her father since since she was 20, and he was only 42:

And her mother since ten years ago, at the age of 57:

For me, this is the first Thanksgiving without my dad, who died on August 19 of this year.  Perhaps I am odd, but I've spent the last ten years or so - especially the last three years, since D of L was diagnosed with cancer - being excruciatingly aware of how lucky I am that all of my family was alive and well.  Even when D of L was undergoing surgery, radiation and chemotherapy, I was terrified (talk about an inadequate word), but still aware that "we were all here."  Now, from my perspective, we aren't.  I know D of L has felt this way for years.  Despite the losses of all four of my grandparents, especially my maternal grandmother, whom I adored, the loss of my dad has made me feel as if one set of the "bookends" of my life - my parents on one side and my spouse and children on the other - is incomplete.

Here's to you, Dad.

I miss you, and I don't know if I will ever feel that "we are all here" again.

Comments

[Songbird]

(((all of you)))