I cannot escape the wind howling outside the french doors of the room I am sitting in, trying to focus on these few moments in time to tell you where I am.
I have gone back. I am back in the time of being the wife, the mom and the hostess. I have put writer on hold temporarily, and activist too. I have polished and cleaned and stopped just for a brief moment to appreciate that my sons are home for a break from college. I made the buckwheat pancakes, the eggs, the English muffins this morning, and cooked the sausage, laid it out as each in their own time left to go to the business to work. I had done the last big bit of holiday organizing last night and have today to think about the trays that still need polishing and the chairs upstairs that still need dusting.
I tore bedding apart and washed it all, I rehung the winter drapes, missing the lovely lace that lets the light through, but knowing that the icy cold loves them too. So the velvet went up and I went down to answer the door as some new package of goodies arrived for the holiday. I am thankful.
The boy that spends so much of his time with us, and has, as a friend of my boys at college over that last four years, is back at his home in Minnesota. He headed out for break there with his family. He is celebrating too, he already has a job offer lined up for when he graduates in spring. He is thankful.
My husband asked if he should get a pizza last night or was I cooking. I let them know when they called hours later that it would be pizza, could they order and pick up. When my one son had come by earlier before heading to the shop, he asked if his girlfriend could have dinner with, so she arrived later with the pizza too. In my drive to do things, that was a detail overlooked, but quickly remembered and so we had a full table. I was grateful to see her.
When my other son came in he told me how excited all the German students were to come on Thanksgiving and told me he could have got the count up to 30 easily; I asked him why he had not invited the rest of them, instead of half. He said it might be too much to handle and he had made sure the students that came were the ones he truly knew and spent time with in Germany. He assured me the others would have fun doing whatever they had planned without him. I was thankful.
Mystified by the daily stresses of life without a holiday approaching, I was wondering why I had to stress myself out by going to an event downtown that would be covered with protesters and likely to aggrevate my blood pressure and agitate me into having a canniption fit. I was encouraged to attend as I had paid a hefty fundraising style ticket, was on the 'host' committee and it was a chance to be with my friends who I have worked with over the years on the issue. I thought of staying at the hotel, thought of an outfit, charged my camera and then said to myself, um, hey, duh, take it easy, you got a 22 pound turkey to defrost, a ham, bunch of stuff to do, they should have had this in October, what the hell are you doing to yourself. I was the only one who noticed, that I perhaps needed not to go and do all that. I was grateful.
I woke up this morning, instead of feeling like I had been in a car wreck, rested, ready to see to my husband and sons, and have a few minutes carved out to write how grateful I am.
I am thankful and when my daughter gets home she will be too, all the cleaning she thinks she has to do will have been done and she can have a nice, albeit quick, relaxing break from her studies.
Copyright 2011 by SheilaTGTG55
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