Thanksgiving

On this warm Thanksgiving morning, I am sitting here attempting to string together pretty words and phrases into sentences and paragraphs that will tell the world how truly grateful I am for all that I have been blessed with. It’s that time of day that I like most - the sun is just barely up and it’s almost quiet in here ( HoneyPie is up earlier than usual and has turned on music.) My little family, including the pets that we love so much, is with me. My heart is full of love and gratitude.

As I think about my life and what is important to me, I find that the things I am most thankful for are not really things at all. Oh, I could list forever objects that I am happy to have in my life. I mean, indoor plumbing is wonderful . And sliced bread. And coffee makers. And my Goodness, computers!!! All good things that I am oh, so glad are a part of my world. But it's not stuff that makes me feel blessed way beyond what I deserve. What makes my life as rich and wonderful as it is, is living daily with my God, my home and my family.

As a child, I was taught religion and doctrine, but not much about the character of God. As the years went by, I thought about Him from time to time, but never really made Him a daily part of my life. In the last year or two, though, I started feeling like my life was a little off-kilter somehow. It was a good life, it was just missing something, a connection to something greater than me. I began to actively seek God and there He was with open arms. It was like coming home! I could almost hear Him saying, “What took you so long to get here? I’ve been waiting.” Now I am glad to have Him with me everyday. I try be the person He wants me to be but I mess it up really bad sometimes. Even then, I know He still loves me and just wants me to do my best. At last, I understand what people mean when they say they love God. I find myself ending my prayers sometimes with “I love you, God. Amen.” Kind of like I’m telling a family member, “Goodbye, I love you.”

When I tell you I am thankful for my home, your first thought is probably that “She said things weren’t important. But she’s thankful for her house. That’s a thing.” Well, I am thankful for my little house; it keeps out the rain and cold. But that’s not what I mean by home. It’s not a building at all. It’s a feeling of love and acceptance and “a safe place to land” as one of my friends puts it. It’s a circle of three, holding each other up when we’re tired and discouraged and holding each other’s hands to dance in happiness.

And then there’s my family. More than a litte eccentric, they are like characters in a TV sit-com. The three sisters, a bohemian, a spit-fire and an enigma, gave birth to five beautiful children: a drama queen, a scholar, a teddy bear disguised as a tough guy, a cloud collector and a little one whose still trying to find his place in the group. They all speak fluent sarcasm and use it to tame know-it-alls as well as to say “I love you” without being seen as too much of a softy. If one of us hurts, we all hurt. If one of us does well, we all celebrate. Children are shared. We can be ready to strangle, bite and kick one minute and huggin’ and kissin’ the next. If my "circle of three" is home, then this quirky group is where I go on vacation!

I once heard a motivational speaker, when giving advice for life, say “Try to have one exquisite moment every day.” In a little while, we will travel the short distance to Mama’s house where we will have the traditional Thanksgiving meal. There, gathered in one room, will be all of the most important people in my life. My step-father, who is given to making grand proclamations before a meal, will do so and then he will lift his arms towards Heaven and thank God for all that we are blessed with. If, as he sometimes does, he asks each of us to share our thoughts on this occasion, this is what I will say to my family. I will tell them that they are the ones responsible for most of the exquisite moments in my life; that I love them so much that it sometimes feels like my heart will swell right out of my chest. And in the middle of that exqusite moment, I will tell them that, as we pray, I will be thanking my wonderful God for each of them. Just like I do everyday.

In Real Life

I’d like to tell y’all a story about a remarkable group of women. They came together In the beginning because they all liked feathering their nests. And they liked helping others feather their nests. And, when all the nests were prettily feathered, they liked getting together and “oohing and ahhing” over all of the said featherings.

Now, if you saw them all together, you would be right in thinking that they were quite an odd assortment of folks. Among them were young mothers caring for their first babies as well as grandmothers who knew all there was to know about raising children. Some commuted to work, while others stayed home (and worked!) There were single women and newlyweds and those who knew the agony of a painful divorce. There were those who had been married to the loves of their lives for many, many years and those who had found that, for them at least, love really was sweeter the second time around. Some had lots of money while others struggled to make ends meet. They were tall, they were short. They were blonde, they were brunette. Thin, not-so-thin. They were as different as they could be. Yet, as different as they were, they became fast friends.

Oh, the fun they had! All of the “aunties” rejoiced when a new baby was born into the group. When children cut their first teeth or went to first grade or graduated from high school or college, everyone shared in the bittersweet excitement of the event and were amazed anew at “how fast they grow.” When there was a wedding, they all became Maids and Matrons-of-Honor. Everything was a cause to celebrate, from new jobs to new cars. Mostly, though, they celebrated each other.

Just about every night, you could find these smart, funny women gathered together at their meeting place; some with a cup of tea or coffee, others with a beer or a glass of wine. They just enjoyed being together. Some loved it so much, they brought along their family members who were welcomed warmly and made a part of the group. They shared recipes and weekend plans. They debated who was sexier, McDreamy or McSteamy and who should be the next Design Star. The only rule for conversation was “if you can’t say something nice, stay out of the discussion;” snarkiness would not be tolerated. Ladies, all of them, they were also given to great belly laughs and slapstick silliness, which was obvious to anyone who had been at the party where being properly dressed meant you had a pair of panties on your head.

What knit the fabric of their friendship together so tightly, however, was something more profound than fun and laughter. Ulysses S. Grant said, “The friend in my adversity I shall always cherish most. I can better trust those who helped to relieve the gloom of my dark hours than those who are so ready to enjoy with me the sunshine of my prosperity.” Had these women been his friends, he would have treasured them above all others. When one of their own was in the midst of dark hours, they gathered around and became a great well of caring and compassion. When a son or a daughter went to war, not only did the friends offer up prayers, good thoughts and a shoulder for Mama to cry on, they sent letters of encouragement and packages of goodies to the soldiers. When illness or death overtook family or friends, they became the wall of strength on which the worried and the grief-stricken could lean. When life became too much to handle for whatever reason, they became shelter from the storm, offering words of encouragement and sometimes, if needed, gentle admonition. Their arms were quick to hold and their ears were willing to listen.

You may be thinking that this is certainly not exceptional behavior for very close friends; indeed, it happens all the time. But what you don’t know, what made this group of friends extraordinary, is that, with a few exceptions, most of them had never been within 100 miles of each other. Their homes dotted the map on both coasts and all points in between, from the cold north to the deep south. Most of them, in fact, had never heard the others’ voices nor seen the others’ faces. They had come together on an internet message board to share decorating wisdom and had ended up sharing their lives.

I am one of the lucky ones who have actually met a few of these precious cyber friends. Each time, as I was preparing for a trip to meet one or two of them, my family spared no words in letting me know what a hare-brained, dangerous adventure I was about to undertake. Shaking their heads, they said things like, “You don’t know anything about them. They could be ax murderesses or perverts!” Or, “Are you sure you want to do this? Bad, evil things could happen to you!” I knew, that under other circumstances, their concerns would be justified. I just couldn’t make them understand that this situation was different; that these women were not internet predators setting me up for some horrible crime. “How do you know?’ they asked. “I just know,” I said. It was difficult for me to explain how, in fact, they are as real to me as anybody I know in real life. You see, I’ve been on the receiving end of their love and support and encouragement. I’ve laughed and joked and had fun with them. I look forward to talking to them every day. My only regret is that I met them too late to be a part of the “panty party.”