There’s a golden turkey with glistening skin, butternut squash soup, creamy mashed potatoes, cranberry orange loaf. In a cozy dining room with a crackling fire, large table and subtle autumn decorations adding feelings of thanksgiving and season changing.
And then the people. The man I love, with salt and pepper hair, carving the turkey as doorbell rings with a few of my olders, now grown up. Some have spouses with baby carriers in hand, some have special someones, some home from college. The youngests still grace us with their presence year round.
As dinner is consumed, it’s loud. It’s a good loud. Siblings are catching up. We are taking in all that they’re saying. We miss them. It was loud before…more chaotic. There were plates to fill, manners to mend, spills to clean. No real time to take it all in. It was necessary and good. There was joy in that phase, just a different kind.
Now we’re here. There is remembrance. The kids poke fun at some of my quirks. ”You always wanted things clean”, “You cussed now and again and we always reprimanded you for it”. “The days you were cranky were very unpleasant”, “You always got way more excited about things than we did”. Dad was so cool. ”Remember when our upstairs wasn’t finished and we got to play roller hockey up there?” “Remember you’d always let us get out of bed and feed us snacks when mom was out at night”? “You were always the best at strapping on your skates and playing street hockey with us.” ”The time you set up the unfinished upstairs with christmas lights and put our mattresses up there so we could camp out for a while? “Mom, I got excited about cooking from you and watching food network challenges”. “Since you love the beach, we practically lived there in the summers…you pulling the double-stroller through the sand, pregnant.” And on and on and on…
It wasn’t always easy. Trying to figure out whether or not to move. Baby bunkin’ in our room for 2 years. Washers breaking, Hot water heaters going, leaky crawlspace…with Rascal;). 12 passenger van for my 30th birthday…and i like it! There were times I felt inadequate. Stretching love out in 7 different directions didn’t work out well some of the time. There was lots of asking forgiveness.
Now we’re here. It’s beautiful. A family of 8 enjoying one another through it all. The hustle and bustle that couldn’t have been without each of us.
So thankful this day.
*This is what I daydream of. With the grace of God and tender, pliable hearts it is very likely to become.
