It is 6:53 on this
Sunday morning of Thanksgiving weekend 2015.
I am awake since 4:51am… thanks to my bladder, a 21-pound dog that
somehow manages to take up a king size bed, and my incessant thoughts. The whirring noise of the dishwasher is a
constant reminder that I forgot to put the dishes up last night as I sit in my
kitchen between the break of dawn and sunrise. I drink my green tea in a Norwegian Cruise
Line thermal cup because all the mugs are in the dishwasher.
I’m not the only
one who’s been up this early; I know that my cousin Andrea in Connecticut is
awake too because she “liked” something I posted on Facebook less than an hour
ago. It’s funny how the world has gotten
so small because of technology. We can
think the same things and respond to one another without uttering a sound, just
with the touch of a 6-inch screen.
My mother comes
into the kitchen. My alone time is ended.
I will be interrupted countless times as she starts her day. She asks if I’m angry with her. She always asks that when I’m
preoccupied. I don’t answer. She comes over to show me her hands- how much
softer they are, because I massaged Aquaphor into them last night before she
went to bed. Then she says, “Thank you
for taking such good care of me.” There
is such sadness in her voice and her expression when she says it; it brings
tears to my eyes.
Thankful…that has
been the theme for the last several days, interspersed with black Friday, day
after black Friday, midnight madness and cyber Monday sales. We pause, between
shopping, cooking, overeating, taking down old holiday decorations, putting up
new holiday decorations, and appreciate the things
in our lives that make us human. In
between feeling and acting as if we need more and more, we realize the
abundance we already have…or do we
really?
The day is
brightening now; the dog comes to greet me with his stump of a tale wagging and
his earnest eyes. Now he’s curled up on
the window seat, comfy and content, even though he’s sitting on cushions and
pillows that desperately need to be replaced.
It doesn’t faze him in the least because his tummy is full and he has
his people around whom he loves and love him back. He knows the true meaning of thankfulness.
It has been an
eventful year with much to be thankful for. I have been feeling guilty because I never
formally wrote a blog entry to welcome the birth of my grandson, Ryder
Dylan. He arrived on March 21st
a day after spring and a spring snowfall.
Ryder is eight months old now, crawling and pulling himself up and trying
to take his first steps. He is the epitome of how
time flies, no zooms, by. But more than that, he has brought so much
joy into our lives…his smile can brighten a room, reminding me of my
brother-in-law, Scott, who is gone almost 4 years now.
This past year my
life has been spent juggling my time between taking care of my mom; working
full time and helping my daughter take care of my two grandchildren, when I can.
In between I fell halfway down a flight of steps onto my head (the day before
Ryder was born), found out I had pancreatitis instead of a concussion and then
had gall bladder surgery at the beginning of the summer. Consequently there has been little time to
write blog entries. I have come to abhor
the term, “sandwich generation” because it diminishes my situation by comparing
it to a lunch meal.
Everybody is awake
now. My older daughter called me at 8am
and my younger daughter (who is normally asleep at this time) is puttering
around the kitchen. And this just confirms the challenge I have in writing a
blog entry, because even though I can block out the sounds of the microwave,
the opening and closing of the refrigerator, the ruffling of cereal boxes and
clinging of utensils to dishes, I have to respond to the complaints of the day
or several questions.
However, I shall
not complain. (That is what I wrote on
my kitchen chalkboard a few days ago…Thou shall
not complain.) Instead I will pause
and consider my abundance:
My husband who makes the bed (except not
today), does the dishes and the laundry along with fixing almost everything
that breaks,
My two daughters who make me proud-
One who has proven to be an
excellent pre-school teacher as well as fabulous mother, and
One who has completed her
first NYC marathon this year, besides for having a terrific career.
My son-in-law who is a fabulous father and
who works so hard for my daughter and grandchildren
My two grandchildren whom I can never get
enough of, especially when I tell my granddaughter I love her and she answers,
“I love you more.”
My dog (How could you not be thankful for your dog?)
The rest of my family
My friends
My home (even though it is falling apart and
depleting my bank account)
My sweet 92-year old mother…who is thankful
for me
And, even though
sometimes I do feel like the luncheon meat squeezed into the proverbial generation of sandwiches, those two
pieces of bread- are what holds me together more than squeezing me in.... and they're what I’m most thankful for.
