Last night, I unlocked my phone to open WordPress and saw a text from my mom with the words wreck and transfer truck in it. Happily, they were accompanied by the words Glenn and I are fine. I used what would have been my writing time to continue texting with my mom.
I suppose it goes without saying that I am thankful for my family. Yet it’s worth saying. And it bears repeating. I am thankful for my family.
I was going to write about my family even before mom’s texts. Really, I was. They’ve been on my mind. My eldest aunt has hosted my mom’s side of the family for Thanksgiving since my grandmother died, but her husband has taken ill, and she’s very understandably bowed out. And so, for the first time in several years, I won’t be seeing her, or my mom, or any other family on Thanksgiving.
I have been mourning that. Thanksgiving is my family’s holiday, the one with the best food and football rivalry, the the only one that still brings us all together. Last year, my family gave us a baby shower after dinner. Most of them haven’t yet met Henry. I was looking forward to passing him around, to seeing how delightful he would find it all and how delighted they would be in him. I’ll miss that. And them.
But I am lucky that I have family I’ll actually miss. And lucky, too, that I can spend the day with Michael and Henry.
And I’m lucky in that Henry reminds me of my family and why they matter to me. He just got these cowboy pajamas that remind me of my grandfather.
He would have loved them. My aunt and her husband would like them, too. Keep a good thought for them both, would you?