Thanksgiving Approaches

In one week, I will be serving my family of 7 a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.  Stuffed under the skin of a beautiful Hutterite (sort of like Amish...)  turkey will be a walnut cranberry dressing with all kinds of secret ingredients I will only pass on to my daughter in laws of the future so their husbands won't be wistfully wishing mom was still the only cook in their life.  We'll have pomegranate salad, stuffed eggs, artichoke spread, butternut squash and candied yams, ginger pumpkin cheesecake, red smashed herbed potatoes, maple pecan pie, Brussels sprouts and caramelized garlic and a variety of other last minute ideas I am sure to come up with. 

We don't live near family...so I'll be doing it all on my own.  I'm used to it...in fact...I even like it!  There is something about providing a feast like that all on my own.  Listening to the moans of delight and knowing I caused them!  My sons and husband always tell me I am the best cook in the world, and I appreciate their praise greatly.  Yeah...I know how to cook (as is evidenced by the size of my thighs...groan!).  I always think about the people who will come to love my sons and want to spend their lives with them.  I don't envy them trying to make the things my kids like to eat...so I always knew that I'd be happy to share the secrets with them while encouraging them to find their own culinary signature...Who knows...it's possible they will be better cooks!  I'd like to think so....

But, all of this talk brings me to a certain point.  I don't know what Simon and Alexanders favorite's would have been.  And that fact....hurts. 

I can't assume anything about it because the core truth of why I concoct so many dishes each year is that each one of my boys has a different favorite Thanksgiving dish.  I make each favorite just to see their eyes light up at the mouthwatering display that contains the food they crave the most.  I will never see my twin's eyes light up over a favorite food...or a favorite anything. 

My sons have been actively making their Christmas wish lists.  So many treasures and desires.  So many options for delight.  I love looking at the long scrolling lists of heart felt wishes.  I remind them each gently that it's impossible to get them everything they wish for.  They always smile and express that in truth, they are just EXCITED period. 

One of my boys put  "A baby" on his list. 

He said that was the one he wanted most. 

He is currently carrying around a little egg with a painted face....to see if he would be a good father.  He says that if he lets the egg break, his baby will die because he wasn't careful.

I responded to this by making him a cotton filled container to reduce the risk of breaking.  I never want it to break.  But....I do know that at some point, that egg will get rotton...and I will have to do SOMETHING....I don't know what that will be yet.  All I know is that the egg needs to stay in tact for my son.  It has to. 

And yet...eggs are pretty delicate.

And, as he so wisely proclaims, so are babies. 


As I scan these holiday wishes, I am forced to be grateful for all the abundance in my life.  We have so much.
We have each other.  The trauma's of life have brought my family so close.  We depend on each other for support, guidance, love and laughter.  We count on each other to come through with the tasks we have at hand so that no one else is over-burdened.  That can be hard when grief is being dealt with, but I've found that even in grief, this family bedrock has held firm. 

Thanksgiving is coming, and Christmas is on it's tail. 

The outcomes of both holidays promise to be joyful, with the essence of two little boys that should have been, in the rafters of our hearts.  Watching.  Protecting.  Reminding.

It's time to be thankful for each other.  In life.  And in death. 

It's all the same really.