Truth: I used to not like Thanksgiving. What with all the family dynamics, dysfunction, all those dishes to wash. I did not particularly like turkey, the stuffing heavy with slivered mushrooms ground, impossible to pick out. Pumpkin pie is only good the first few fork-fulls, you know, pecan pie tasty if it weren't for the actual pecans. No, I did not like any of it until now. This second. Today, with a kindergartener. Hands traced into toms, feathers glued to gourds. This hat made from bunched up paper bags so that it looks as if she has two turkey legs on top of her head. And that freaking smile.
I guess finally I get it. The gratitude. The giving, the on-my-knees, no way, why me, how did I get here, how am I so lucky? The kiss their cheeks by the fire, a quick inhalation of laughter, the actual taste of thank you. Thank you. Thank you.