It’s the time of year when people seek out the flesh and
blood of their past. In some instances these meetings end up in fights,
bloodshed and general civil unrest. In other cases, everyone has a nice time
and goes on about the rest of the holiday season no worse for the wear.
If you
believe the mass media, movies, music and television shows, this is the time of
year where people stress out, party too much, make fools of themselves and then
through some miracle, all is forgiven and everyone sort of lives happily ever
after.
This is not
about any of that. Nope, simply because it is a well known fact that in my life
I am not a big fan of reunions of any sort. I try to avoid them. Especially
this time of year. So, when plans were being made for the holiday of
overeating, me and my family sort of fell through the cracks. Sure, we could
have gone somewhere, a friend’s house, a distant relatives home or, even to
some large, national, eat all you can for a hundred dollars restaurant.
But we
didn’t. We stayed home. Just the three of us, and this is what it is all about.
We slept
late.
I made
breakfast of bacon, eggs, cheese, juice and milk.
We watched
a parade on television and came up with different scenarios on how to release
the captive but wild balloon creatures back into their natural habitats. Also,
we hoped and prayed for the death and destruction of the talking heads on the
black box. We enjoyed the marching bands and scoffed at all the lip-syncers in
attendance. Then we watched a bunch of dogs get judged on the national
airwaves.
During all
this, I cooked up a feast that seems a bit obscene. Albeit, delicious. Then we
ate, did dishes, turned on a football game and took naps.
When we
woke up, we repeated this behavior.
Near the
end of the night, we realized we needed some condiments from the store. We were
unsuccessful at the first two stores we went to. They were closed. So we ended
up at a large box store with the entire population of Virginia.
People were
fighting, yelling, screaming and being the worst selves they could possibly be.
I shook my head, grabbed my groceries and tried to get out alive. Which I did.
So, I treated myself to a milkshake. (Yeah, I know, already ate too much.)
The rest of
the night was spent in food induced bliss while sitting on the couch trying to
stay awake. By midnight I was fast asleep, for the fourth time.
It was a
perfect Thanksgiving. Food, no stress on my behalf and everyone in the house
was content, fed and happy.
So, when I
woke up at two in the morning with my brain going ten thousand miles an hour, I
knew I needed to write something. So I jotted down some notes, and went back to
bed. Here are my interpreted for the public versions of those notes.
I’m
grateful for my family. A family that understands my need to seclude myself on
my porch with my laptop and cigars in order to sort out my thoughts, a family
that knows, even when I’m surly, grumpy, manic, tired, joyful and absent
because of work, I’m doing it all for them.
I’m
grateful for my friends. The ones who tell me like it is to my face. The ones
who read my stories and my blogs and tell me where I’m off base, goofed up in
the head or just plain nuts. And the friends who don’t read my schlock and
still tell me all those things. Friends who actually answer my texts, emails and
phone calls when I make them to their respective contacts.
Lastly, I’d
like to thank my church family. The ones that are there for me and my family
when we are in need, when we are struggling or even when we are just doing fine
and don’t need anything in life. They unknowingly offer us comfort and a sense
of belonging whether we know it or not.
These are
the things I’m grateful for. Have a great week and I hope your Thanksgiving was
a memorable and joyful one.
P.S. I
wrote a blog last week and didn’t post it. It just didn’t seem to be the kind
of blog I wanted to share with the general public.
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