As yet another Thanksgiving comes to a close it is with
mixed emotions that I send it on its way.
I think about those that weren’t where they most wanted to be, and I
think about those that are giving so much so that I can safely enjoy turkey
today. I miss our military life
sometimes, but that’s not really what I miss, I miss the family we had in the
military. We had our share of the fake
friends that come and go as quickly as your duty station, they are the ones that
will be your best buddy when you’re here, but are the ones that forget you just
as quickly as the plane takes off to take them away. But we also were quite Blessed to have the
chance to have the kind of friends that created a place in their hearts and
made that place permanent. Those are the
ones I miss today; the ones that I pray are safe and happy. Some aren’t home where they want, but if they
are safe, I see that as a win.
We weren’t sure where we would be tonight. We knew where we were supposed to be, but
then Sydney came home with the stomach bug, and passed it through the
family. From there we could only wait
and see and prepare for the possibility that we would have at least one person
still too sick to travel. But then,
there was the very real possibility that Bradley would lead the way to another
possibility entirely. But fate, life,
sometimes it has its own plan and for whatever reason, we were granted a stay
for today and rather than bringing Bradley out of the hospital this morning, or
take him in first thing tomorrow morning – we instead headed out to dinner with
family.
We enjoyed a delicious meal at Grandma’s house with all that
goes with time with her. It’s not always
easy, but it’s always perfect in its own way.
These events are like small moments in time that are etched in the
memories of my children so that they will always have them. The girls are suitably exhausted from playing
as hard as possible in the short time allowed with cousins they adore and never
see. They will fall asleep tonight with
new memories that will keep them going until the next time that they get the
chance to see them again. And Dad and I
will keep fielding the inevitable flow of questions asking when will see them
again, why don’t we see them more…. And so on.
It’s nothing I can answer, it’s nothing I am happy that I can’t
answer…but it just is what it is.
Sometimes the simplest answers are so far from what we can
give, and the reasoning is so complicated that our kids aren’t going to ever
understand, but most the time, we aren’t really at a place where we can
understand either, just because we are adults doesn’t actually mean we know
what we’re doing.
So this is what I’ve learned about Thanksgiving:
I never remember the taste of the turkey; I just remember
that we had it.
I remember when the silences hold the most weight.
I know the importance of what is never said, and feel the
loss.
Sitting at the kid table is not a punishment; it just means
no one is watching you close enough to ensure you eat so much dinner you don’t
get dessert.
Sitting at the adult table means that you get full of dinner
and have little room for dessert.
If you have a healthy ability to suspend your disbelief, the
greatest chasms can be bridged for at least one meal.
That bridge can prove to be the greatest of gifts that you
just tuck away, you don’t need to analyze it or over think it, just live it in
the moment.
And I am reminded how beautiful acceptance is, and how it
can make me tear up by its use. I see my
girls pulled into the fold because they were missed and loved. And tonight I watched my son peeking around
the corner playing with the other kids…perhaps not a part of the actual hide
and seek game, but hiding and peeking just the same. Not an outside participate, just a little too
young to be able to want to jump in. But
I watched him give hugs, receive hugs and I watched him follow and lead –
connecting in ways he rarely gets a chance to do. And though he wasn’t thrilled at first, he
even managed to share a bit too.
I could feel the strain by the need to make the day perfect,
and everyone had their own perception on how that should happen. I found the presence of the need for Ego to
be disconcerting, but I’m pretty good at letting that just roll right off like
most non-important things these days. Perfection
in itself is not altogether a horrid prospect, but once some laughter could
lighten the mood, then it was just there.
And for just a few hours there was a harmony. As the evening ended, the stress of too tired
kids, too tired parents…that all accumulates to gather in a cloud for the long
ride home. But ITunes plays the favorites
that the girls know and sing too, songs that Bradley recognizes and somehow
that eased some of the grumbling. Not
all of it, but then, what do you truly expect?
They’ll fuss themselves to sleep here in a few minutes and a different
type of peace will settle around the car and see us home.
This was Bradley’s fourth Thanksgiving and when it comes
down to it, I’m just glad we got here and past it again. There have been moments in the past four
years that life has offered the most frightening of prospects in order to
continually remind us that we are Blessed.
Living in the shadow of that realization, ego is of little importance,
acceptance of who I am is of little importance…every day we spend in this
family with this little boy – that’s really all that matters. This little boy holds onto his sisters with
great care and they always find their way back to him.
Happy Thanksgiving All!
From our heart to yours, hope you had a wonderful day!
