Grateful when it's not quite enough...

I’ve been working on this post for days…because it’s one of those days I used to love and now just dread.  I started cooking Thanksgiving dinners when I was 15 or so.   The first couple of years my mom lovingly guided me from the kitchen table, although she always did the baking, except for the pumpkin pie…mine was better than hers, but I hate to bake.   With each passing year, especially once I got married and I had china and silver and crystal, the meals and table settings got more elaborate.   Being the only child of an only child and my other parents’ siblings had died young, our table wasn’t surround with a lot of family, but we always found people who didn’t have anywhere else to go that day and they became our annual “thanksgiving family.”  Over the years, the thanksgiving family got to know each other and everyone looked forward to their annual catching up.  And each year, there would be new friends because a few of the old would have other plans…it was always exciting to me to see who would be around the tables. 

But what happens when life starts throwing some major curveballs?  The first came when I lost a child who every year would sing silly Thanksgiving songs after the meal.  He loved to eat, entertain and be hospitable and anytime we had cake,he said it was a party!  So “Turkey Feast” as we called it, was his kind of bliss.  The first Thanksgiving after we lost him, we decided to shake it up and do a brunch instead, but it didn’t really help and I still miss our traditional version of Thanksgiving.   The next year I was back to OUR old thanksgiving and again the year after, they were smaller  but I had no idea it would be my last big thanksgiving meal, and my last with my mom. 

Months after my mom died, who by then was basically my last living family member, we packed up and moved 1400 miles away where I anticipated scaled down holidays while dealing with some pretty profound grief.  While nothing compares to losing a child, losing your roots, the family that raised you and stabilized you has been paralyzing for me in many ways.  I don’t want it to be.  I want to be able to be bigger than it, glass half full, bright side, sunny disposition…I’ve always said I’m a realist with a lean towards the positive.  I’ve never allowed myself to be marked by and steeped in grief…I couldn’t live there, it’s just not me.  However, for someone that always went all out for the holidays, I miss that part of me and long to have it back some day.

Quite honestly, I never enjoyed having a small family, which is not only why we collected people over the years but also why I wanted to have a bunch of kids.  I excitedly anticipate the day they come for the holidays with significant others and kids in tow…I know a full house will give me a full heart!    But that’s years off…and we’ve moved states two more times since that 1400 mile move….so starting a collection of people hasn’t happened as easily as I would have liked.  This year, I tried…in fact, I contemplated even putting an ad somewhere online.  I know there are others like me, especially single parents whose kids will go to their ex’s house and they can’t be with their family for whatever reason.  My dream would be to have those people surrounding my table someday, a new “Thanksgiving Family.”  When my efforts of late were getting me nowhere, I realized a couple of things.

First, I started telling myself that I needed to be content with a thanksgiving for four…and to be happy I don’t even have to share part of the day with their dad.  I am unbelievably grateful for my kids…but honestly that’s something I feel every day.   So I started telling myself I need to be happy with “what is” versus what used to be, or what should be, or I wish would be. 

I began to tear those things apart and evaluating them this week.  I will never have those experiences again that I had the first 15-20 Thanksgivings I prepared.  Besides the most significant players having all died, the other players have married, had kids or grandkids and their lives have all changed too.  They have new places to go for dinner and I am genuinely happy for them.  Then I thought about my last two Thanksgivings where I live now…there have actually been three but I can’t recall the one before.  Two years ago, my ex husband and I had finalized our plans to divorce just two days before Thanksgiving and announced it to our world where we told everyone “we completed our marriage.”  We actually spent Thanksgiving separately….he went to one set of friends and the kids and I went to another.   But the kids complained we didn’t get to eat their favorites so we had a mini version that Sunday, where all five of us ate our last meal at a table together.  I know you’re thinking “No wonder you aren’t happy today!”   Honestly our marital relationship was over years before and so both of us felt some level of relief and it really was okay.  I just happen to be on the slightly sentimental side and for his final two weeks still living with us kept thinking “This is the last time….” Or “He won’t get to be a part of this next time…”.

Then last year I had been dating someone for a couple of months and it was characterized by too-serious- too-fast, but I was grateful to have SOMEONE extra at our table, even though by then he ate with us every day.  His kids were with their mom and so we ate in almost complete silence as he was sad they weren’t there and honestly, it was plain awkward.   So revisiting the last two years, I can find some sort of thankfulness that I don’t have to go back to either of those things! 

What do I wish?  Well, I’d be happy with a myriad of scenarios as long as there it included a host of people.  I know I can’t bring my family back, I know I can’t pretend to be a part of someone else’s.  I know I can’t snap my fingers and make it all the way I wanted it.  Basically I just want to be with more people and the day to feel special.  I will not scroll facebook today because it’s a constant reminder that it just feels like another day here at my address…only with food I make just once a year.  I will avoid the stores tomorrow because I see all of the herds of relative shopping while I shop alone.   I will try to get through the next couple of days not remembering that I am untethered when I long for that more than anything else.  Somehow, I will sit at my table with the beautiful faces of my children and not feel guilty that I couldn’t give them a “thanksgiving family”, but hopefully we can still be grateful when it’s not quite enough.