I know. I said no posting. But here I am, well-rested. (Thank you Ambien.) And feeling better than I’ve felt in over a week: so far I haven’t been tasered one single time this morning and only my left hand is numb and I was able to make it out of bed this morning without falling against a wall or a doorjamb. (Thank you steroids.) And my children are still sleeping. (I don’t know whom to thank for this minor miracle.) So. A good morning.
And now I’m getting ready to peel and braise a big pot of sweet potatoes. Last night before bed (but after the Ambien) I took the second batch of dinner rolls out of the oven. (Well, technically the third batch. But one of the many joys of MS is that sometimes it makes me unable to concentrate enough to, say, follow a recipe. Even one that I know by heart. I had to throw away a sodden mess of bread dough on the first attempt which seemed pretty pathetically symbolic at the time.) Tomorrow will be pumpkin cheesecake and pecan pie.
Thanksgiving Friday is almost here!
No: we are not Communists or heathens or just a little slow on the uptake. Thanksgiving Friday. My husband has a job that doesn’t necessarily stop on holidays or weekends or during the night, so he will leave us Thanksgiving morning before 6:00. He’ll be back sometime Friday morning and we’ll trek the eight miles over the river (creek) and through the woods to Grandmother’s house. Together. If we can’t be together, I’d rather not do it.
I’ve been cooking a lot lately, with a compulsion that was almost confusing. Until I stumbled across this lovely blog: The Kitchen Witch. The food, the family, the love… she brings all the perfect imperfections together in a beautiful way in her posts. And, probably, in her life. I’ve always loved to cook. But this is why I’ve been going about it with such reckless abandon in the past weeks. It’s been a sad, scary year. Now I’ve finally recovered enough that I (well, except for this week) recognize myself, and I recognize how much I love these people who live in my house and I recognize how badly I want to stay well enough to keep giving them all of me. I want to spend hours preparing their meals, treating them and nourishing them and every once in a while making them turn up their noses at me or at what I put on their plates. Letting them snitch tastes out of the mixing bowls. And hugging them. And, just maybe, yelling at them a little. Oh, and hugging them. I have the energy to do it right now, and I have to do it while I can.
So Thanksgiving Friday. And the sentiment is this: I will be with people that I love (though not all of them, sadly). I am thankful for them. I want to pour every surge of love, quiet or heart-rending, that I can find in my body into the food I prepare for them. The cooking will take several hours over a few days. One ruined batch of bread dough, two extra trips to the grocery store, one great big burn on my right hand, about 600,041 calories. And hours and hours of love.
It doesn’t seem like nearly enough.
Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you are as blessed as I am.
You made me cry…but in a good way. Sometimes in all of the craziness that has become my life, I forget how much I have to be thankful for. This week has been so wonderful because I have just focused on the positives in my life.
And in a weird way I am almost thankful for this crazy body of mine. Sure it hurts randomly, my nerves freak out, I get weird symptoms that make no sense, but I also have this sense of how precious everything is that I never would have had otherwise.
None of us know what the future holds. All we can do is love the people who touch our lives and live in this moment that we have been given.
You’re here, Teresa! I admire your ability to make the most of the good days – whether they are due to the simple absence of tasers or just a good old Thanksgiving Friday. Enjoy.
You’re wonderful to read, do you know that? I can feel you through your words. The details of your cooking. Even the burn on your hand.
Your family is very fortunate to have you. All that love.
Have a good holiday on Friday.
Best,
BLW
I’m here.
Grateful.
Happy day.
Oh, I’m a little weepish over here. How nice of you, and how nice that you get something from my oddball little blog. I feel honored to have you in my life.
And I honestly feel that food is love. Your family will not forget your efforts. Food and memory are so closely knit together…you’re making memories that will last.
I came over via Momalom, and am so glad I did. This is beautiful because I can relate so much. Sometimes it takes all that we have to step outside of whatever we’re going through and remember that this is it. This is why we’re here, and no matter what is going on, there are always things to be thankful for – and if we’re lucky, people to cook for
Yes, Food Is Love. I find that more and more, when the kids start getting itchy or the house mess starts getting to me or I just don’t know what to do with all of these bodies under such a small roof, I cook. We bake. We all turn to FOOD. And everyone is happy. And I feel useful. And grateful. And loved. And all of that good stuff. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving Friday.
Hoping your Friday Thanksgiving was a good one. (And that you don’t have a sink full of dishes as I still do – from Thursday!) But it is oh-so-lovely to feed a family, of any size. Nourishing in every way.
I fell behind on your blog…I’m sorry. I’m back. Happy Thanksgiving…be it on Thursday, Friday, or even TODAY (since I’m late here). So much for which to be thankful! I’m thankful for “meeting” you and for meeting your awesome sister and her family during this past year.