She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful & life was so short. {story people}
9AM:
Thanksgiving this year is quite a bit different for us. We usually host at our house with my entire family and Grandpa J and Amanda come to OH to join us. The morning usually starts with Justin getting the turkey prepped and in the oven while I begin the frantic cleaning and pick-up, making last minute side dishes and trying to get the kids interested in watching the Macy's Day parade (they always get bored).
This year, we're in New York. We are spending it with 99% of the family (we're missing the AZ Youngers). We will cook the meal at the cabin and then take it to the hospice house so that we can spend the day with Jim. The list of what we are thankful for really takes new meaning. There is a sign over a doorway in the house that we are staying in that reads "Simple Blessings"....like the big, fat snow flakes that fell this morning before eventually turning into rain.
11PM:
The best blessing of the day was seeing Jim smile ear to ear, over something funny when several of us were talking. I have not seen that smile in months. I wish I could freeze it in time. The day was wonderful - chaotic and fun. The folks at the hospice house were wonderful. Warm and accommodating of us people invading the space. They had everything set up and waiting. We made SO much food we could have easily taken care of about 30 more people. The cousins had a ball together, everyone got to go in and spend time in Grandpa J's room. He must be thoroughly exhausted after all the visiting yesterday and today.
I love the fleeting and unassuming moments - that smile, overhearing the conversation of 2 preschoolers and their take on life, the coziness of being inside now while the sleet/rain is pounding away outside. I love that even in a time of impending grief, that we can laugh, enjoy being together and have fun.
I'm happy that Mas got to show his grandpa his class ring that we picked up on Monday. He had Jim's "Grandpa J" signature inscribed on the inside of the ring (from his last birthday card).
From my favorite poet:
Thanksgiving - by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1896)
We walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.
Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling.
They hang about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives
And conquers if we let it.
There’s not a day in all the year
But holds some hidden pleasure,
And looking back, joys oft appear
To brim the past’s wide measure.
But blessings are like friends I hold,
Who love and labor near us.
We ought to raise our notes of praise
While living hearts can hear us.
Full many a blessing wears the guise
Of worry or of trouble.
Farseeing is the soul and wise
Who knows the mask is double.
But he who has the faith and strength
To thank his God for sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
To gladden every morrow.
We ought to make the moments notes
Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
The hours and days a silent phrase
Of music we are living.
And so the theme should swell and grow
As weeks and months pass o’er us,
And rise sublime at this good time,
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.
Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling.
They hang about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives
And conquers if we let it.
There’s not a day in all the year
But holds some hidden pleasure,
And looking back, joys oft appear
To brim the past’s wide measure.
But blessings are like friends I hold,
Who love and labor near us.
We ought to raise our notes of praise
While living hearts can hear us.
Full many a blessing wears the guise
Of worry or of trouble.
Farseeing is the soul and wise
Who knows the mask is double.
But he who has the faith and strength
To thank his God for sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
To gladden every morrow.
We ought to make the moments notes
Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
The hours and days a silent phrase
Of music we are living.
And so the theme should swell and grow
As weeks and months pass o’er us,
And rise sublime at this good time,
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.
~
The simple blessings make me happy - and oh so very Thankful.
Posts
