Today, Thanksgiving Day, was exhausting. It is drawing to an end for me as I know that I can't keep my eyes propped open much longer than it is going to take to write this post. It was a good day but a tiring one. The girls were at each other most of the day - arguing, fighting, yelling, crying - the works. At this point you might be asking " Where is she going with this? (psstt...she must be really out of practice writing these posts! She hasn't done it in a while!). Well the direction I am going and the intention I have for this post is to talk about one of the things that I am and will always be very thankful for. I am thankful for HOME. There really isn't a word to me that is more enveloping. More comforting.
I love that people will use "home" to describe the physical building in which they live - or the town they grew up in - or, even the country that they came from. Home means everything. It is how many of us qualify ourselves. Define ourselves. Account for our style, our accent, our beliefs.
Last weekend, I made a last minute trip to my Dad's "home". By this, I mean the town in which he grew up. The town where my grandma, cousins, aunts and uncles still live. Their home.
I loved the threads, though long and almost invisible, that still connect my Dad to his home. The beautiful prairie fields of wheat. The groves of trees all red and gold. The prairie sky that is a blue like nowhere else. Being with my Dad, sharing his memories of home made me feel that warmth of knowing that I am fortunate enough to also have a home.
Our home, filled with chaos and noise and laundry and dishes and yelling and laughing and goofiness couldn't be anything more. It is a sanctuary - the place that protects and keeps the people I love the most safe and warm and contained. Tonight, when I told the girls that they were going to have a special picnic dinner for Thanksgiving with a special movie, they were overjoyed (this special treat is purely selfish as it allows me to sit and eat a meal with my family in peace!) - however, Sophie said to me "Mama, are we going to hold hands before dinner and pray for Thanksgiving? Because I don't want to miss that part". I, of course, said that I thought that this was a great idea and why didn't she and her sister have a prayer with the grown-ups and then head downstairs to watch their special show. This was agreeable. So, as we all sat down to a feast of food and wine, we all held hands and offered up what each of us was thankful for. As we went around the circle, and each person shared their thanks, what ran through my head over and over again was "I am so thankful to be home, surrounded by my family". Home. We should all be so fortunate.
