Another Thanksgiving survived. This year, instead of driving to California, we stayed home. We truly expected it to be just Fred and I and the dogs eating casually in front of the football games on TV, but at the last minute, youngest stepson Michael, whose camping trip was snowed out, informed us that he was coming–and yes, he wanted the whole turkey dinner. My initial reaction was anger, but then it started feeling like a real Thanksgiving and oh, what the heck, we got a free turkey from the grocery store and Michael offered to help with the cooking, so we did Thanksgiving, white tablecloth and all.
It was exhausting but fun.
Between cooking chores, we telephoned the relatives back in California, including Michael’s brother and sister. They were gathered with their mother and the rest of their family in Newark. Apparently they had a huge feast and a great time–as it should be. I am not their real mother and we live 700 miles away. A couple months ago, the daughter said she would bring the whole family here for the holidays, but I never really expected it to happen. That’s how it is when your husband has children and you don’t; the real mom will always get first dibs, and you’re lucky to get a phone call.
My goal these days is to become more accepting and content with life as it is. So, how was my Thanksgiving? Just fine. And yours?