Giving Thanks

I am home in South Carolina.

I use the term “home” loosely, since I didn’t grow up here and in fact this is the first time I am in this particular house. I am in the house of my mom, who moved down here to Beaufort earlier this year. Shortly after moving into this new home with my step-dad, he got up and left her.

My sister is here too, so it’s just the girls this year.

Traditionally Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I’ve only spent one of my 31 turkey days away from my family, the year that I lived abroad in Italy when I was 16. Ooops, wait. That can’t be right, I probably didn’t go home every year while I lived in Amsterdam. But surely we celebrated the best we could even though finding a whole turkey and an oven large enough to cook it in would have been pretty tough. Why do I love it? Everyone celebrates it (well, in this corner of the world) regardless of race or religion. And I think it’s important to stop our hectic lives, join hands around a table and reflect on our blessings.

Lately I have been thinking too much about my own short comings rather than the myriad of blessings that grace my life. Thoughts of my personal imperfections, the inner battles to maintain sanity, and my ever growing disconent with work and life as a faux Bostonian litter the constant dialogue being played out in my mind.

So, I pledge to sit here for 2 full minutes to come up with a brainstorm of blessings. In no particular order.

family friends health winter coats internet water soap perfume sight smell music tulips food on my talbe every day education right to vote term limitations dogs cats apartment my bed books italian good wine belly laughter love hugs traveling lipgloss energy work teddy pictures camera airplanes socks cellphone paper crushes lavender chocolate silence prayer community biking along the charles breath a hand held knowing art candles bookstores sex high heels faith ties curry acceptance adventure ability mobility creativity voice strength body mind spirit foggy mornings sunsets being on my own being with others

That was kind of hard. It looks like it came out as a list of my favorite things… I mean, is lipgloss really a blessing? Well, yes. I like a glossy lip. It is a blessing not to be chapped.

One of the things I wanted to change about my blogging is to be more open about what is really going on in this corner of interravision. I think before I glazed over a lot of things, more to protect myself than anything else.

So at this moment, I am sitting at the new kitchen table of a house that is only half decorated. Mom doesn’t seem to have the heart to finish the house on her own, and I doubt that she’ll stay here anyway if B. really does go through with the divorce. I am sad. Its heartbreaking to see loved ones in pain, especially your own parents. My mother, who has always been a pillar of strength, is showing signs of vulnerability for the first time since I have known her. In a way, this is refreshing. But hard. Through recent conversations there is a new truth between us. No matter what happens next, I am thankful for that.

I am also thankful for this view from the back porch. I love how the spanish moss drips from the craggy branches of the live oaks which stand on the perimeter of the marshes.

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