Family Stuff

My partner and I spent a quiet day at home last Thursday. His kids were in Seattle and Oakland, and mine in Mexico and Bend, Oregon. Since he had to go into work at 4, a trip to Seattle for turkey and all the fixings was out of the question. Bend is eight hours away and Friday was a work day for my daughter. What do do? No question. I stuffed a small turkey, made a sweet potato casserole and a coconut cream pie because I love Thanksgiving food, and we ate together, listening to music we both love,before he left for work. I read and relaxed the rest of the day; it was really quite lovely. But. And there is a ‘but’. When my daughters were young, I would invite all the lonely people I knew – divorced, separated, or even couples with no close family in town – to my house to celebrate. My home would be filled with people all day, enjoying the food and one another. There were often other children, so my girls would not be surrounded by adults, even adults they knew well and liked. I loved those holidays: the noise, the shared cooking, preparing the salads and starters in the kitchen, talking and laughing about our lives, and finally, sitting down at my table, expanded with leaves I rarely used, to seat us all comfortably. My parents lived in New Jersey and couldn’t come, and my sister, in Australia. So I never had to contend with ‘family’ issues; instead I created my own ‘family’ with friends and friends of friends, and remember those meals with real fondness. Although I did enjoy this quiet Thanksgiving, I also found myself reminiscing about the good old days. I realize I have to accept the fact that all of our kids live in different places and have their own celebrations, as do many of our friends. It is a different phase of my life, and that is the difficult part. Part of me would still prefer being the centerpiece for the holidays, drawing everyone I love to my hearth, and nourishing them. I will have to learn that nourishing myself and my mate, which he returns in abundance, will have to suffice. Life moves on, and I will have to as well.