This Thanksgiving, I got to spend the day with Matt. :] :] :]
Which is unlike most of the last few Thanksgivings.
We'd talked about going to Seattle for the day. Maybe finding a fancy restaurant and shirking all Tradition of eating turkey and potatoes.
But then, we didn't
I made sweet potato casserole (because, YUM), and Matt made a fruit salad (pineapple, kiwi, and pomegranate). As the sun started to set (right around 3:30 PM... ugh), we made our way our friend's house. The last few years, when Matt wasn't home for the holidays, I've spent Easters and Thanksgivings with this family. Each time, they include me in their traditions and it's hard to be bummed out when kids are squealing with glee over the prospect of cider and pie.
Another military wife joined us. Her husband has been gone these last six months, and is due home soon. She brought her two wee ones, and we made a group of five adults and six children.
It was loud.
And perfect, in the way only imperfect humans can achieve.
The turkey was juicy and tender. The mulled cider was spicy and delicious.
My husband on one side, a friend on the other, small faces covered in gravy and the like; we passed casseroles and salads and rolls, plus a small basket filled with notes of thanksgiving. We read one each, picking a paper at random.
"I am thankful for my dog."
"I'm thankful for the pile of kids around me while I read this book to them."
"I am thankful for my mommy and my daddy and my God and my house and my friends."
"Mommy, I want to read mine." "Did you write one?" "No. But I want to read mine."
"I'm thankful that my husband comes home soon."
"I am thankful that Matt is home this year."
"Here, I'll help you spell that. F... A... M... L... no, wait, I! I! Then L. Y. Family! I am thankful for my family!"
"I'm thankful to live in beautiful, lush Washington."
"I am thankful for a community of friends who treat us like family."
We ended the evening with a frustrating game of Killer Bunnies.
At home, we Skyped Matt's parents.
And then I crawled into bed and fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.
I hope your Thanksgiving was fulfilling, no matter how you spent the day.