Argentinian poet Antonio Porchia wrote:
“I know what I have given you, I do not know what you have received.”
Absolutely nothing but the truth. I think about my kids this time of year. I don’t know of a parent who would not. It really doesn’t matter what the situation is with them. Is our relationship all in one piece, are we okay with one another? Are we not getting along so well? What’s up with that. Or are we flat out estranged. I have kids that fall into each category.
Two of the four talk to me. The other two do not. Mental illness runs rampant in this family.
My biological kids got hit from both sides of their family. Mental illness is a key in all these situations. They are all extra hard to get through in one mostly emotional piece. I have one child I would not dare to diagnose. I have another two who are diagnosed. Times can be very hard.
So, it’s holiday time. Thanksgiving in two days. We here are prepared! I can’t think of a thing we need. Though, I’d love to have an excuse to go to the store. Our cupboards are not bare.
We will have the normal turkey with all the trimmings. Stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, cranberry sauce (why call it sauce?), olives, marshmallows, sweet potatoes. Yum.
We will have the company of two kids, and I will count myself as thankful for those two.
I will be happy with what I have. That has been a hard lesson for me to learn over the years.
I wasn’t happy in Ohio. I was told that my home was where my husband was, I should be happy. Then came the heart is where the home is. I was young, California was still king in my book. Fast forward to today, I really do hate this house! It is an okay house. But, we never got to finish cleaning it up, gutting it out, and redoing everything the way we wanted. We still have rotten and very visible ceilings, moldy walls, 50+ year old linoleum that is so worn there are holes in it. I may hate my house for things that it is not at fault for. The house has been obviously neglected by former occupants, and our dreams are pretty much dead. But, my home is most certainly where my partner is – he is my home, my heart, my all.
I love my kids to pieces. All of them. But, truth is none of them are kids anymore. They need to finish growing up, and I need them to grow up. We have moved into the stage of tv dinners in this home. I am so tired of cooking. Send me a recipe that you use when you do NOT want to cook! Our time is coming-we are both tired and worn out. Yet we are not yet even 60 years old. It is circumstance, and genetics. We take care of each other. His problems are certainly getting progressively worse. Mine would get better, if I could just concentrate on me. Some how, I always manage to throw the baby into the wash water.
I will be 60 this April. I kind of figure I might have about 18 years left on this planet. I reached the stage where I knew each day was a gift to be thankful for a long time ago. My father died so young. Even though he was a mean son of bitch, his presence is still missed. I can still hear his jolly laugh, and his the tromp, tromp of his work boots as he got ready for work. Lucky for me the good things are etched into memory.
I keep trying to be thankful for the nearly 16 (legally) years I gave to my first husband. He taught me a lot. I taught me a lot. I sure don’t take husband #2 for granted. He is easy to love.
At least for me. We travel pretty much one the same plane. I really thought it was meant to be at first. In fact, I believed that for a long, long time. There are days when I really don’t know that anything is…well, meant to be. They say there is a God, and he has a plan. There are days when I hope it is true.
It is Thanksgiving 2021. In two more days I’ll have a whole days of cooking to do. Cheeks to kiss. I am so happy that my kids believe in immunization. I am truly grateful for that! For if they had chosen to not get them, I’d probably chosen to not host them.
I have one essay mostly done. I have one more to write. I have math to catch up on. Two more weeks of this quarter and then we are done for just about a month. Next quarter will be two more history classes, and another math class. Ugh. I love the history. Not so much in love with the math. But, you know, I am totally grateful that I was allowed to go to school again.
I will be happy to use my degree to hopefully make an income in a field where I can do important things, and be proud of what I am doing. Making a lot of money would help. I’ll try, but I’m a realist, I’m not rich yet.
Watch out if I am ever rich. No telling what I might decide to do. Tear down this house for one. Have another trucked in and set up. Put it in a child’s name. (No, not yours). Buy myself at least two cars, just cause I can. Buy my love a brand new Jeep.
I love to dream. I am grateful that I can. I am grateful that I can tell the difference between reality and the dream too. I am grateful for the life, and the experiences, even those that hurt so much. I got a 2nd chance. Have a Happy Thankful Thanksgiving.