This year we are home for Thanksgiving. It’s not our first Thanksgiving at home, but it is our children’s first Thanksgiving in Florida. I’m thankful our little family is celebrating Thanksgiving in our own home and that my Aunt and Uncle will be joining us because family is more important than anything to me.
But for the fifth year in a row, I won’t be spending Thanksgiving with my parents. I will, again, be cooking Thanksgiving dinner without the help of my mommy (I did this previously in Dublin, with my Nana when I was pregnant with Honeybun and when we lived in Oklahoma.) And in fact, I’ve only spent one Thanksgiving since graduating college with my parents (Honeybun’s first) and only once in college. I’ve only been with my parents on Thanksgiving twice since I was 18 and left for college. Twice.
I can say it’s become normal, but this is really the first time I’ve realized how not-about-my-family Thanksgiving has become. And as I write this I’m teary-eyed but not because I’m not going to be with my mommy and daddy this year or because I wish I’d had more Thanksgivings with them (we’ve had WONDERFUL Thanksgivings with hubby’s family!)
I’m emotional because my mommy is going to be without her mommy for the first time. And my mommy-in-law will be without her mommy for the first time as well. And I just can’t even imagine how hard that is going to be for them.
The holidays are a great time for celebration and family but they can also be the hardest as the reality of the year’s losses and the holes left in our hearts become glaring, impossible to ignore.
It’s easy to not think about the grandparents we lost in the past year (all three of them) as we go about our daily lives but I know it will be impossible for my mommies to sit down for a family feast knowing one of the most important people in your life is no longer sitting down with you.
Growing up, I spent Thanksgivings with my own family, my Gran’ma and my Aunt, Uncle and Cousins. We rotated who cooked each year but since we’ve all scattered and my parents now spend part of the year in Florida as do my Aunt and Uncle, things have become year-to-year. But those memories still remain. I still remember the first Thanksgiving for my youngest cousin, he was just a few days old (and a preemie) and my aunt busted out of the hospital early in order to be with the family. We all gathered at my Gran’ma’s house to celebrate the day and the picture of me holding him that day is still one of my favorites (he just turned 21…)
This year as we gather around my table, with just part of our family present, even thousands of miles away from the table where my Gran’ma will be missing from, I don’t know that I’ll be able to escape the reminders and sorrow of the year’s loss. I’ve decided to use my good china for the first time since it is my first time hosting a big family holiday. But as I pulled it out of my cupboard for the first time, I was struck by the reality that it was not really my first time using our china.
I’ve eaten off that china a hundred times. It was my Gran’ma’s that she gave us as a wedding gift. The china that’s never been used in my home was used daily in hers and I remember all of it. I can still taste the lemon meringue pie (that she used to make just for me).
I know it gets easier as time goes on. I know the heartache melts away though the longing for them never does. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Frankly, it sucks.
