Happy Birthday, Anaka
You are officially fully cooked! I can’t wait to see where your life as an adult takes you! I hope that you find he smoothest road with the greatest gifts. Love you!
We built our traditions just the four of us, before Daddy had to work on holidays.
We’d start mixing up pumpkin pies to ease the oven into its job.
Everyone would chip in chopping onions, mushrooms, celery, potatoes,
Until the kids wandered off to watch the parade’s character balloons and dance routines.
We learned about the herders, workers, water dogs, the ridiculous mop dog,
the poor ones that get combed to perfection
never allowed to run in the yard and dig in the mud.
We come to the table with growling bellies.
Grace isn’t a prayer we say, it’s what we offer each other silently.
Our plates overflow. We begin with A.
I’m thankful for Angels,
Bananas, Caleb, Dogs,
Excellence, Fruit, Gideon, Hamburgers,
Ice Cream, Jacob, Kitkats, Laura,
Math, Nibbles, Orion, Parents,
Quiet, Reunion, Space, Turkey,
Underoos, Violet, Warlusses, Xanax,
Yellowstone, Zenith.
Every year different guests, different gratitudes, but always connected.
Some years we moved Thanksgiving to Friday or Saturday around work schedules.
One year, after posting prepping pictures on Facebook, we got a call asking if we had room for guests around this postponed thanksgiving table.
We’ll always make room for more love at our table.
My youngest is 6,900 miles away today. I gather in someone else’s home. I didn’t bump elbows prepping a meal. We didn’t alphabet our way through gratitude.
He introduced his Girl to the parade and the alphabet this year.
We’ll always make more table for our love that carries forward without me.
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