Thankful and Full

Today is Thanksgiving and I am truly giving thanks.

We ate early to accommodate schedules. As much as I stressed about the meal, it was unnecessary fretting. Everything turned out well and I believe a good time was had by all. At least no one left hungry. Plus, there's enough football on today to seduce the husband into a coma for hours.

I am thankful for:

The baby home from college and sharing our Thanksgiving traditions.
My father's annual blessing before we eat.
Looking around the candlelit table at loved ones.
The simple fact that we are safe, warm and well-fed.
My mother's culinary contributions. Yum!
The husband taking the dog for a walk after dinner.
The mother-in-law's help with setting the table and chopping endless onions and celery.
The husband and the baby doing the majority of the clean-up detail.
The oldies are going to visit the husband's brother and family for Christmas.

I am sad and/or cranky about:

The grown-up daughter who couldn't be here. There is an empty spot in our day.
Hangdog -- but I'll save the details for another day.

There may be lots of problems in this world. But for today, let's all be thankful for the people who give us a warm heart and a safe haven.

I hope you hug a pet, tell a friend "I love you" and toast the loved ones around your table.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Mysterious Ways

Whenever there is no explanation for a particular situation, someone is bound to say, "God works in mysterious ways."

Ok, true enough. Although, I hope I get to take my notebooks to the afterlife because I have a lot of questions.

What They Remember

A friend of mine and her family have been dealing with a health scare. Her mother-in-law had some obstruction in her colon or stomach. I know a much more detailed explanation but I'll leave it at that. This condition, life threatening, required surgery on an 86-year old (or so) woman. Did I mention that she also has a heart condition?

The good news is that she survived the surgery and is now actually thriving again. No one -- even the doctors -- expected this. The bad news is she doesn't remember a lot of the past few weeks. Her family has put endless miles on the cars to visit, consult with the doctors, hold her hand, take care of her dog, take care of her finances, etc. One of her grandchildren calls from Florida every day and asks, "Who visited today?" The answer is always, "No one."

I should be more sympathetic. Instead, I want to put on my t-shirt that says, "Been there; done that."

When we rescued the oldies two years ago, he had just come out of hip surgery and she was going through chemo. Hangdog went immediately to the Ortho rehab hospital. The husband visited twice a day, plus shopped for sweatsuits and other necessities. I visited. The baby visited. I took the mother-in-law to visit and wheeled her around because she was weak. He told us the other day that he was so lonely during that time because no one visited.

Other days, he doesn't remember all of the times he's been in the hospital since they've lived with us.

There's a reason they're good together. He remembers nothing. Her memory is frighteningly sharp.

Hide and Seek

We played hide and seek for hours when I was a child. What seemed like tons of children ran through the neighborhood, climbed trees and ran screeching to avoid getting tagged. Hiding was the best part.

The other day it was raining. Not just a little drizzle, it was raining hard. The oldies fried up breakfast and then she whipped a shower cap out of her robe pocket, put it on and headed out the door. Bizzare behavior, even for her.

She came back in (soaked) with a box of donuts in her hands. After feeding Hangdog his required dessert, she donned the shower cap again and headed back out.

Curiosity got the best of me so I asked, "Is there a reason you're storing donuts in your trunk?" (You remember what curiosity did to the cat.) She unloaded on me. "I'm tired of YOUR HUSBAND making comments about how much junk his daddy eats so he just doesn't have to see it."

I decided not to remind her that the husband wasn't even home. Plus, whenever she's cranky with him, she conveniently forgets that my husband is HER son.

I understand hiding stuff. I've done it. Many years ago I hid some mini Heath bars in the laundry room and allowed myself one a day. The daughter came home from college, started doing laundry and found my stash. Oh well, I didn't need it anyway.

Brownies and cookies tend to disappear rather quickly around here so I've stashed a few for the husband on occasion.

It extends beyond food. There's a lot of hidden jabs and innuendos in various conversations. I stay out of the way but my antennae is up.

Today, I'm just hiding. But I'm not kidding myself. I will be found.

Passport

Just like I almost always have a pen and notebook with me, I also usually have my passport. It's a quirk that makes no sense to anyone but me.

Lots of people keep their passports in a bank deposit box or a home safe. That makes sense from a security standpoint but it doesn't work for me. I prefer it in my possession -- you never know when you might want to leave the country on a whim!

An acquaintance of mine recently went to the bank to pick up her passport, along with her husband's and their four children's. They were all in there with one exception -- hers. So she put her entire family on a plane to Cancun and then waited until Monday to fly to Chicago and stand in line at the passport office. I would laugh at this story except we've been through it. Several years ago, the husband had to go to England or Ireland on very short notice. His passport was due to expire so he made the divergent trip to Chicago as well.

You used to be able to go to Canada, Mexico and the Caribbean with only a birth certificate; no passport required. I'm not sure about Canada but you now need a passport for Mexico and the Caribbean. With all the hoopla about homeland security and terrorism, I think we'll soon see a law that requires all citizens to have a passport just like we're required to have a social security number.

One of my girlfriends has been struggling with getting her married name (she divorced about 10 years ago) off of legal documents so she can obtain a passport in the correct name. Government paperwork is a hassle but she'll get it done.

The oldies don't have passports. Neither do my parents. It makes me nervous. What if I traveled somewhere and disaster struck? What if I really needed them? (My parents -- not the oldies.) They couldn't get there unless they knew to divert to Chicago and deal with the one day passport office.

It must be generational. Both the daughter and the baby have passports.

The daughter lives in Texas and the proximity to Mexico is minuscule. I wouldn't be surprised if Texas passed the first law. You've got to have a passport to enter Texas.

Wild Bill -- Part II

Last night, the huband was playing the piano and I was lying on the floor with the dog. She had a big whacker of a bone that collided with my eye. Nothing serious but I walked around with an ice bag in a cloth for an hour or so. I considered a piece of tape to put over my eye. Yep, for that time, I was Wild Bill.

Last week, I went to a movie with my mom and my aunt. Aunt Judy's sense of humor is amazing and contagious. She is a combination of Lucille Ball and Wild Bill.

On a recent night, the husband had a business dinner and other commitments. I spent lots of time on the phone. (Hello, Wild Bill.) He was a huge phone junkie -- or as my mother likes to point out, "He was a great drunk dialer." For the record, I was not drunk. But I do tend to spend a lot of time on the phone.

The dog does this weird thing with her tongue -- kind of lolling out sideways and it always reminds me of Wild Bill. He used to clamp his tongue between his teeth when he was thinking or concentrating on something.

I swear to you. I catch myself doing it everyday.

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

I love Dr. Seuss. There was a point in my life that I could recite Green Eggs and Ham from memory. For a while, it was one of the baby's favorite bedtime books, along with The Very Bad Bunny.(This is not Dr. Seuss but it's a good one.)

Thanksgiving is next week and the Christmas ads and catalogs are already plentiful. Unless you are hibernating in a cave, you know the holiday season is upon us. Here's what I love: the husband and I negotiated years ago that I can only begin the Christmas music in the house on the day after Thanksgiving. But, he can't control what I listen to in the car or in my office. I love putting up the tree with the exception of the year I had to move it three times. I love the parties, even when I'm exhausted. Most of all, I love the cheesy Christmas movies and specials:

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
It's a Wonderful Life
Miracle on 34th Street
A Christmas Story
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Frosty the Snowman
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
A Christmas Carol
Scrooged

My favorite is How The Grinch Stole Christmas. I've loved it since childhood but it has taken on new meaning because I live with the Grinch.

Last year, the Unabomber made a short appearance on Christmas Eve during our annual party. He did not get out of bed on Christmas Day, even though his granddaughter was here from Texas and the rest of the family was gathered around the tree. I got a serious attitude. The husband advised me to let it go and for that day, I took the advice but now the holidays are here so I have to remind myself again.

Before the oldies lived with us, I used that bedroom as Christmas Central. I piled presents and stocking stuffers. All of a sudden, it was the day before Christmas Eve and I was overwhelmed. My friend, Mickey, came over. We sat on the floor, popped movies and Christmas tapes in the VCR and wrapped all of the gifts. It was one of the most fun afternoons of my life.

I may live with the Grinch but he's not going to steal Christmas.