Giving Thanks

It’s 6:30 am on Thanksgiving Day.  I’ve been up for hours; not because of stress or worry, but because I am so full of gratitude I feel like I could burst.  This is one of those rare moments of joy before the chaos begins.  I lay in bed this morning, thinking of all of the ages and stages of this life.

I reminisced about the Thanksgivings of my childhood; about making place cards and setting the table with my grandmother’s good china while my mother made the broccoli casserole and my dad prepped the turkey.

I thought back to the Thanksgivings early in my marriage, when I showed up at my mother in-law’s house with that same broccoli casserole, tentatively presenting my offering to this new family, hoping it (and I) would be received with love.

I recalled the first Thanksgiving I hosted, for a few family members in our tiny upstairs apartment.  Our kitchen was the size of a closet, and we ate in the living room that year.  To this day, I’m not sure how we made it all work.

I remembered the year that I filmed Cal, dancing in the kitchen as he gently placed alternating white and yellow cheddar slices on a tray, occasionally declaring that this one was ‘broken’ before taking a bite and grinning at me with those freaking dimples.

I went back to the year that we stumbled with our pronouns; our whole family working to ensure that Lee felt loved and safe and supported.

Some of these Thanksgivings blend together in my mind; I can’t recall which years we spent here and which ones we spent away.  Some of them were stressful and chaotic; some were quiet and relaxed.  But there are themes that run throughout.  Love.  Gratitude. Acceptance.  Abundance.

And this morning, my heart is bursting with those things.  Grateful feels like too small a word.  What’s bigger than gratitude?  What is gratitude and peace and joy and love pushing so hard at your heart that it brings tears to your eyes?

Maybe it sounds dramatic. Maybe it sounds like too much. But those tears really are pushing at the edges of my eyes and the only reason is because I am remembering to remember all of my blessings.  Like…

My husband.  This guy is cranky and rough around the edges and a little bit gruff.  And he is the epitome of loyalty and commitment.  He is full of love and he cries at movies and he always does the right thing, even when the wrong thing is easier.  He provides for us and cares for us and when I’m at my worst, he just shakes his head and takes a deep breath and keeps on loving me.  He is my rock and he is an incredible role model for these kids.  He is tough and soft all at the same time, and what on earth would I do without him? Thank you, God, for this incredible man.

Bea.  What an incredible young woman.  The holidays are so hard for her.  She’s been through a lifetime of hardship in her short 16 years, and she still faces each day with grace and strength.  Watching her grow has been one of life’s little miracles for me. When I first met this plucky fourth grader, she had the soul of an old woman and the smile of a cherub (when you could get her to smile).  I had no idea that she would become a part of my heart like she has.  In our first year as a family, I worried about how to make her feel welcome in our home and how to balance the addition of a new family member. I worried that we weren’t enough, or maybe we were too much, and I tried so hard to make it all less awkward.  And now, I can’t even remember what it was like before she was here.  She’s been a part of my heart for so long, and now she’s a part of my family, and we are all better for it.  Thank you, God, for this amazing young woman.

Lee.  Oh, my heart.  This kid.  This kid is awesome.  As in, awe-inspiring.  Incredible. Brave, funny, smart, strong, perceptive, loving, and honest.  This kid is going to change the world.  He is going to bring his whole self out into the world and teach tolerance through love and humor.  He is going to care for his menagerie of pets and use his incredible powers of observation and his scientific brain to accomplish incredible things.  And in the meantime, I get to watch him transform like a butterfly.  Can you imagine that?  We all have hopes and dreams for our children… but I’ve gotten to watch my child grow in ways I never imagined.  He surprises me at every turn, and he brings me immeasurable joy.  His laugh and his heart and his head on my shoulder; they all take my breath away.  Thank you God, for this inspiring, incredible kid.

Cal.  My baby.  My sweet, silly, stubborn little guy.  The one who probably gets away with too much because he’s the baby of the family and I’m a sucker for those dimples.  But Cal is my cuddler.  He’s the soulful one; a deep thinker who seeks God in all of the places.  He’s the one who will spontaneously lead us in prayer, or ask questions about heaven when I tuck him into bed.  He’s sensitive and kind and always wants to do the right thing. He’s my go-getter.  When presented with options of things to do, the rest of the family will say ‘no, thank you’ to all of them; Cal will ask why he can only choose one.  He’s athletic and musical and his guitar skills are on track to surpass his dad’s someday.  When I hear them play together, I get a lump in my throat.  Thank you God, for this sweet, sassy little man.

I am grateful today for all of these blessings; for my stepsons and my parents and siblings and my in-laws. For lifelong friends and new friends and the unconditional love from my dogs.  For a warm, safe home and a log in the fire and new throw pillows.  For our church family and a supportive community and cinnamon flavored coffee.  For the sound of laughter and a shoulder to cry on.

Dear God,  thank you for all of the blessings of this life, even the ones that appear as hardships.  Help me to cultivate gratitude and share it with others, and help me to remember this moment of calm once the chaos begins.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  May you be abundantly blessed.