It’s hard for me to believe that Thanksgiving was ten days ago and that I’m just now getting around to writing about it. The reason that I haven’t written until now is that I finally lived in the moment and spent much time simply visiting with my family.
For the first time in six years, my sister came home for Thanksgiving. Because she used to live on the East Coast and now lives on the West Coast, she normally comes home only for Christmas. But this year, she treated us to a visit at Thanksgiving.
And because my sister is the only one in our family who has cooked a turkey, she taught Mom how to cook one. We all pitched in to make the side dishes and desserts, and we created quite a spread. (Only after we had eaten to our hearts’ content did we realize that we had failed to take a picture.)
In addition to our normal tradition of baking while I’m home for Thanksgiving, we created a new family tradition. We are not a family who enjoys fighting crowds, so we did not “drive to the city” to shop at the mall on Black Friday. Instead, we deemed the day “rake and bake” day. We raked for two and a half hours, rested, and then started some of the holiday baking.
I wouldn’t trade that time that I spent with my family for anything. And yet, the planner in me is having trouble dealing with another first: this is the first time that I haven’t gotten my Christmas cards in the mail in time for them to be delivered on December 1. How gross is that? I don’t know where I got that superficial deadline. After all, I don’t win anything for getting my Christmas cards out by a certain date or by being the author of the first Christmas letter to arrive in people’s mailboxes. If anything, I probably perturb people who are still digesting their Thanksgiving.
So this holiday season, I’m trying to truly focus on relationships with my family and friends. And my Christmas cards, well, they’ll get there when they get there.