Being thankful.

I think I must be feeling a little emotional after the weekend . . . we had family f-u-n up to our eyeballs and I know it was EXACTLY what I needed heading into the start of the holiday craziness. Before this weekend, all of us (Tom, myself, Grace and Vince) had only been in the car together ONCE in the last month. Between getting ready for hunting, HUNTING and working, Tom has hardly been home. And then all of a sudden, this weekend comes . . . and we played Rook at Russ and Angie's on Friday night, went and FINALLY saw some dear friends sweet baby girl and had dinner with them on Saturday night, went to church TOGETHER on Sunday and then went to Costco and on our way home visited Grandma DeHoog at the health care center, then the kids and I went to Grandma and Grandpa Larson's while Tom did pig chores, we went to Grandpa Ted and Grandma Jessie's and then finally to Mom and Dad's for some delicious chicken and rice soup. I didn't take a single picture the entire weekend because I was too busy enjoying every single moment. And as I went to bed last night, I couldn't stop replaying all the fun and being so THANKFUL for our families, and I felt bad for all the times I have acted like a twit lately about silly things when there are so many more important things going on in our lives. And then my mind turned to trying to teach my sweet Gracie girl to be THANKFUL for what she has . . . instead of crying that she wanted those cookies that I made to take to church for a funeral and sneaking some out of the container, or screaming that she wanted those presents that we put in the shoebox for Operation Christmas Child. After about two hours of tossing and turning and thinking and praying,I decided that the true meaning of gratitude arrives on its own. You can't try too hard to create it, you can't stress too much about conveying it. We can talk about the Pilgrims and take turns sharing what we're thankful for that range from "my toys and my cousins" (Grace) to "two tiny souls that have changed me forever". I sometimes get a little teary and then try to pull it together before Grace notices. But still, that's not the heart of it. That's not the meaty core Thanksgiving . . . the kind I want my kids to grasp and feel. It will come somewhere in between, when no one is watching. On Thanksgiving, right when the kitchen is crazy and hands are being washed and dishes are being carefully carried to the table . . . Dad will tell everyone it is time to gather and I'll watch as conversations are wrapped up and heads are tipped in laughter, and he will offer up a sweet prayer and right about then, I'll want to grab Grace and kiss her and whisper into her ear, "This is Thanksgiving. This, right here, is being thankful. Drink it in, drink it in." And then I just hope she gets it. That over time she knows she is blessed and that there are so many places in this world, in this country, in this little town where there is pain and need and hunger. And knowing just how good it feels to have it, I hope she gives it back.