15 October 2011

Every year, the same old thing

Last weekend my family celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving. Or, as we call it: Thanksgiving. I love it when John refers to it as "Canadian Thanksgiving" in Canada and all my relatives look at him and remark dryly that we don't specify it as "Canadian" IN Canada. Ha!

It's taken me a week to post about the holiday because it was so unremarkable. We did the same old things we do every year- actually with fewer relatives this year due to conflicting schedules. But as I thought more and more about the regular-ness of this year's Thanksgiving, I remembered something that gave me pause:

There was a year when we didn't do the "same old things." There was a year when I could hardly taste my Thanksgiving meal. There was a year when I would have given anything for the regular holiday I had this year. There was a year when my mom wasn't there because she was sick. Very sick.

In 2007 my mom developed Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome after a routine surgery. In a matter of days she went from needing an oxygen mask to being in a coma, on life support. Thanksgiving 2007 was spent mostly at her bedside, worrying and praying. Thanksgiving 2007 was spent wondering if she would even be around for Thanksgiving 2005. We hoped and prayed; doctors doubted.

But miraculously (and I don't use that term lightly) she's still here. 4 years later we celebrated Thanksgiving in the same old normal way we always do- and I could not be more grateful.

I am grateful. Grateful for my mom and dad.

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Grateful for the ability to sit outside for pre-thanksgiving tea.

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Grateful for Turkey and stuffing and Oma's red cabbage (my favourite!).

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Grateful for another year with Oma and Opa at our table.

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Grateful for a sister who, try as she might, can't enjoy the taste of wine and drinks apple juice from a crystal glass instead.

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Grateful for a Dad who, since the dawn of the digital camera, has always been taking Thanksgiving pictures from the head of the table.

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Grateful for a Dad who teaches us how to make our half empty wine glasses sing.

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Grateful for after dinner coffee and pie....

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... followed by an after dinner walk.

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Grateful for the constant moon.

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Grateful for a rare autumn chiminea fire in the backyard.

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Grateful for family.

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Grateful for the miracle of life we almost lost.

But most of all just grateful for the normal, regular, same old, every-year routine that at one time, I didn't know I'd ever get to enjoy again.

Thank you God.