Here we are, the Sunday before Thanksgiving 2020, and I still haven’t fully committed to our Thursday plans. There’s no turkey thawing in the fridge, no potatoes already starting to spoil on the counter because I STILL don’t know how to store potatoes, and no boxes of Stove Top Stuffing just waiting to thrill my guests (there are, however, many empty bags of Ghirardelli Peppermint Bark that really were bought for Thanksgiving but ended up in my mouth).
I’m confused and not quite ready to act.
Which is exactly how I felt this past week as I started writing this post.
Because every time I started to write something “thankful” about the holiday, I thought about the people who had lost jobs, and worse … lost family to this pandemic. And I wasn’t feeling all that grateful.
BUT THEN I thought about how fortunate we are, and how truly thankful I am for our blessings. And I was back to writing about gratitude.
BUT THEN it was back to how upset I am that my family can’t be together this year, how lonely these past months have felt, and how wonderful it would be to see everyone, to meet my newest great-niece (who is already a year old!), to be with friends we love.
And back and forth and back and forth … you get the picture.
Well, after about eight different drafts (a few therapy sessions, some “CALM” mindfulness practices …. Hell I even found Keano and got her advice), it has come down to this: Thanksgiving 2020 just is confusing. At a time I’m supposed to be thankful, I’m also feeling a little bit guilty because I’m just a little bit pissed too.
So, I’m going to accept that there’s room for gratitude AND frustration this year. That maybe nothing is perfect, but nothing is absolutely horrible either.
And wherever you are, with whomever you’re able to share the holiday, I hope it’s a great one. Next year, everyone is welcome at our house!
Now where’s that bottle of Patron?