I love this holiday because the older I get the richer my stockpile of memories and the greater my blessings.
There were years where I wore a jumper and tights and was so eager to play with my cousins that I could barely sit still during the dinner.
There were years when we laughed as my grandma Sadie held court. She was the family matriarch and sat in the center of the U-shaped table along with the other elders, her brothers and sister.
There were years when my first husband Brett and I traded family Thanksgivings. One year spent with his family, the next with mine. Sometimes we even double-dipped.
There were years when Brett was too sick was to partake in Thanksgiving. The light of the holiday dimmed even as I offered silent gratitude for our time together.
There were years of young widowhood when life felt especially vulnerable but both families held us together.
There are the years in Colorado, missing our families back East but grateful to have found happiness here with my husband Steve, his boys, and the whole Saunders clan. We gather at Uncle Tom’s and have many plates of food.
What I know today is that even bittersweet memories are blessings because memory is eternal. Hold tight to the people and stories that have given your life meaning. The meal might be over sooner than you’d like (who among us doesn’t enjoy the Thanksgiving supper), but try, if you will, to let the sustenance of the meal transcend beyond the day. Feast on life today and always. This is the best Thanksgiving recipe of all.