As Thanksgiving approaches, I am already becoming consumed with the preparations. Each year I ready the house to receive as many as 30 people, who come and leave at different times throughout the week. I cook and bake ahead as much as possible, and I fret ahead of time over how my feet will hurt so at the end of that day. But I also remain mindful each day leading up to the big day of all the many blessings in my life. God is so incredibly good.
In thinking about all the preparations yet to be made this morning on my walk, I rounded the corner onto my street and envisioned all our family members pulling into the drive anticipating this most-loved holiday in our family. I wondered about the other houses on my street. Do they celebrate Thanksgiving? Do they travel, or do they have family that comes? Is theirs a peaceful weekend, or is there strife? I pictured our houses without roofs, where the inside reality was visible to everyone. I wished everyone could see and participate in the grace and support and love and true gratitude our family shows every year as we stand in our huge circle before the feast. We pass the communion bread and cup and each tell what we are thankful for about the person standing to our right. Sometimes we cry as we recall an especially difficult year for that person, and sometimes we laugh hysterically at a memorable moment. We are always touched as the little ones take part and learn how to affirm each other and give thanks for our amazing family.
We aren't perfect, of course. And we aren't always happy, or even nice, for that matter. But we are close, and we love each other and we are doing the best we can. So it's at this time of year that I begin to feel that warm swelling that rises up when we think of certain people. I feel it at different times for different people, but I feel it for my immediate family ALL the time. And especially for my girls.
I have loved, loved, loved being a mom, and now that my girls are moms, I can't sit them on my lap or braid their hair, or tuck them in at night. (Thank God for memories!) But I do love them now as friends. Each of our friendships is different, just as our relationships were when they were growing up. I have taken what I learned as we raised them and still apply it to our friendships today. I know not to pry or ask too many questions to the one, and I actually remind myself not to talk so much at all. Rather, I still just show up and listen, and eventually she will share what she wants to. To the other I can give subtle suggestions, then allow her to grow them as her own, passing along full credit for even the hint of the idea. And to yet another, I am most free to agree or disagree without ever giving a thought to any fatal damage, knowing we always come back around to meet again in the middle admiring the other's strength and ultimate wisdom.
My girls are truly like three facets of myself, only in most perfect forms. None of them are exactly like me, yet all of them have characteristics that are amazingly like me! They are quiet, thoughtful, fun-loving, passionate, intense, wise, and creative. They love God, and are raising their children to be kind, faithful and responsible. They are much less legalistic than I was, and a million times more witty and wise. They don't worry about the temporal and aren't the least bit shaken by what others think (usually). They are funny beyond funny and caring beyond caring. They are pragmatic and loyal and trustworthy, and they have a healthy respect for all things Southern (which pleases me to no end, as I wasn't born there, but got there as soon as I could!). And finally, they each have given birth to seven of the most beautiful, intelligent and adorable angels that God has ever sent to earth.
So this Thanksgiving, I may not be standing next to any of my girls, but in my heart I will be most grateful to God for allowing me to mother three of the most amazing young women on the planet!
I love you, Shannah!
I love you, Jocelyn!
I love you, Lauren!
(Next post needs to be about my loveable hubby, huh? ha.)
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