For All The Things

The Monday after Thanksgiving is always a little sobering. The turkey holiday flew by too fast and involved too much food and drink. Family has dispersed to their respective towns and states. And worst of all, there is no denying that Christmas is making a full-court press. Isn’t it too bad that these two big holidays are bumped up against each other the way they are? A little time and space between them would be so much nicer. When I was in college in Virginia and couldn’t always make it home for Thanksgiving, my family celebrated a few “Thanksgiving in July” feast days. That was a great idea, Mom. I wish we could have made it stick.

Perhaps in a pathetic attempt to avoid focusing on the December calendar, I am still lingering with Thanksgiving today. Give me just a few more hours to savor the memories of a long weekend with family and the beautiful place we gathered, which was San Diego, California. Allow me also to continue nurturing my feelings of gratitude, a practice I need to engage more regularly.

For the beauty of this world.

For my children, who have survived their mushy-brained adolescence and somehow lived to tell about it (but not too much, please), and who actually like being with each other and with us.

For my selfless and forgiving husband, who both lifts me up and keeps me grounded.

For our own parents and siblings, who started us on our journeys with love and images of family that shaped our own.

For old friends who stick with us, even as we stumble and crumble and lose sight of the world’s goodness.

For literature and poetry possessing the power to tenderize our hearts to each other and to the world around us.

Thank you for this moment of quiet. Now go forth into the madness that can be December with a grateful heart and the fortitude required to listen to Christmas carols pumped into every building you enter for the next 25 days. Good luck!