By the time you read this, I’ll be on the way to drop the Babe at the airport for his flight to DC. Shhhh! He’s going to surprise our grandson Joell for his birthday on the 25th. More about this later. The holiday will be nice and quiet with my oldest son and me. Looking forward to it, and he loves leftovers! So I won’t be eating them until the devil wears ice skates.
While we know the first Thanksgiving isn’t how we were taught in school, we still remember we need to give thanks for living in the land we do, and that we are free. My sincere apologies to the indigenous peoples, we were terrible to you.
I have to say, Nebraska’s new governor has committed his first faux pas already. He posted a photo of his wife, him, and two grandkids at the kids’ Thanksgiving programs. The little girl was dressed like a pilgrim girl. The little boy, an American Indian. Didn’t anyone in his campaign educate him how bad that is these days? It always should have been bad. We need to respect the Indigenous People. This is not how we do it.
So to prepare for Thanksgiving, I baked Mom’s Mince Meat Pie. Have you ever tasted that? It’s awful, in my opinion. Mom also happened to give me a Pumpkin and Mini Chocolate Chip Bread recipe last time I saw her. She thought it sounded good, which I took as a big hint she wanted me to bake it. So I did today. Made four loaves. Hope she likes it. I’ll drop off her pie and bread tomorrow on the way home of the airport.
And the rest of the holiday weekend? The pups and I will be left to our own devices. Turkey, goodies, and a new Sweet Potato Salad I’m trying, and working on Kayla’s quilt, now that I know I haven’t lost all my skills and confidence. While we don’t know what the first Thanksgiving was really like, we do know it wasn’t idyllic as we were taught. The pilgrims were allegedly thankful for the harvest (and for being alive after their voyage across the ocean). The winter would nearly wipe them out, but they didn’t know that then.
None of us know where we’ll be a year from now. Too many of our friends didn’t make it through this year with us. We remember, and will not forget. We need to give thanks for how our lives are right now, today, and for the hope of what they can be in the next year. A good friend is waiting to hear the fate of a former co-worker; she has disappeared and the Sheriff’s Department is involved, it’s even searching a home in another state; it doesn’t sound good. Another two good friend lost their wives in the last six months, and their lives will never be the same. We can only hope, keep our faith, and give thanks for wherever we are at any given time.
Should the worst happen to us? Our only choice is to continue on. Yes, it hurts like hell when someone we love more than life itself is taken from us way too soon. We can give thanks because we knew that kind of deep, forever love. It can be from a friend, from a parent, or from a spouse. When we lost my dad, I never wanted to be close to anyone again; I never wanted the chance of something hurting that badly again.
Eight years later, I met the Babe; I learned he had ischemic heart disease. Dang! Finally met someone who would stay, and he had a bad ticker. I was afraid to love him; I was too afraid of losing him before we were even together. That was foolish of me. I’m so glad we talked over my fears. I knew I would have more joy with the Babe than without him. No matter how many years we’d have together, they’d be our best. All these years later, I’m grateful for him and the life we have. We are both lucky, to have each other. Thankful for it all.
Wherever we are next year, I must remember to be grateful for all of this life we’ve had so far. Because we never know. And we’re going to make the most of it all. Thank you for reading; be grateful; see you tomorrow.