I have a huge family. When I was growing up, dinner was at my parents’ house, multiple aunts and uncles, sisters and their families, grandchildren and kids. As I got older, the aunts and uncles fell away and the nieces and nephews (grandchildren to my parents) multiplied. Everyone brought food but my mother did most of the cooking. We put the leaves in the dining room table and everyone sat close together, which was not a problem, made it easier to sample from each others’ plates that way.

As time went on, the nieces and nephews married and had their own families, and we started going to different homes for the big meal, but most of the time, everyone managed to show up at my parents’ house at some point for leftovers. There were always a couple of people at the dining room table, picking at the turkey carcass, eating cookies, having one more slice of pumpkin pie – the best excuse for whipped cream ever!

When my father died, my mom and I went to my sister’s house, the one who lived closest. Still, we had a small turkey the night before and there were drop-ins for leftovers later on Thanksgiving night.

Then my mom died in October. That was the first year I had Thanksgiving in PA with Bear. His son and daughter in law, and two small children came for dinner. We had a huge turkey and ran out of gas for the oven, so we ended up cooking it on the grill. No one cared, it was a fun meal and we still laugh about that turkey on the grill.

Each year, the family grew and each year, they came to us for dinner. This year, there have been changes, the kids are with partners and have other places to go, and the grandparents are very low on the list of priorities. So it’s just me and the Bear. We decided not to have a big dinner just for us. We pulled a turkey out of the freezer and it’s in the oven, we’ll have a vegetable and maybe smashed potatoes and eat at our normal time. That’s 8 pm for me, and around 11 for him, since he works second shift he isn’t used to eating at “normal” times.

It’s a very different day than the ones I remember. I’m sad – for the memories his family won’t have. But times change, life goes on. I’m grateful for the family I still have. I’m grateful for friends who laugh with me when we get lost and call it an adventure (midnight in Baltimore is something I never thought I’d experience.) I’m grateful for the parts of my body that don’t hurt, although there aren’t many of those today. I’m grateful for the soaking tub that made those parts that hurt a little less painful. I’m grateful for Maverick, as much as he challenges me. (But if he wakes me up by jumping on me one more time……………………..) I’m grateful for my life, with all the ups and downs. And I’m extremely grateful that I live in the best country in the world, no matter what anyone says.