This One Is Tough....

Yikes...I'm really having a hard time with this one....it is like dragging a concrete block across a gravel road....lots of resistance. In this case, the resistance is psychological: I totally don't want to acknowledge this truth but yeesh, not acknowledging it won't make it less true...will it?

So here is the story. I'm bummed because I'm getting ready to have a pathetic little loser Thanksgiving with no one but my sister and her family. (That isn't the big truth, by the way.) At her house, no less. This is so depressing. I'm used to family rolling into MY house starting about noon on Wednesday. After an evening of greetings and pumpkin pie baking, we are drunk on love, anticipation, and yes, possibly a little wine. By midnight, we've hung folks to sleep on every spare peg and set the alarm to put the 20 pound bird in at the crack of dawn. On the big T-day itself even more people arrive until my little bitty house is close to bursting, the noise level has reached maximum irritation, and the kitchen counters are so covered in food that no one can tell there is 1970's vintage butcher block formica under it all.

But this year will be different. No one will be arriving at my house at all. I'll drink coffee by myself T-day morn and then head over to my sister's where we will politely eat turkey and I'll be home alone by mid-day. Yuck. No chaotic crowds in the kitchen the night before, no mad rush for my two miniscule bathrooms, no small yapping dogs.

This is the hard part....I have to be grateful anyway. I mean with it being Thanksgiving and everything, you know, I really am kind of obligated to be grateful, aren't I? I've got to take a walk on the sunny side of the street and realize, gulp, that I have a lot to be thankful for. (That is THE BIG TRUTH in case you can't tell.) After all, plenty of people would be thrilled to have a whole loving sister family to have dinner with. And a lot more people can't even fathom the ridiculous joy and sense of belonging that comes with having a huge, noisy, sometimes obnoxious family to gnaw on drumsticks with.

So bummer. This year my sister (yeah, she feels ripped off too) and I will have to make do with our motley crew of a meager seven. But while we try to overlook the 20 empty seats we will thankfully remember that we are among the lucky few. We are lucky to have a lifetime of memories of loving parents and brothers and sisters and cousins and nieces and nephews and all the assorted in-laws and out-laws and chaos and bedlam and pies and weird casseroles.

We're lucky to have each other. Happy GratitudeDay to us.