My November

This poem, by Robert Frost, was shared with me by a friend.  It really encapsulates the beauty that is November.  However, all this beauty is annually overshadowed by what November means to most people... Thanksgiving.  I'm no exception.  Since about the second day in this month, I've been planning the menu for our feast.  Then there are the school programs and parties, parent-teacher conferences which all seem to take precedent.  And this year, I had the not-so-lovely experience of being without a washing machine for most of the month.  I think that my November could have easily slipped between the cracks of normal life.  But then I read the poem and I started to really look around and enjoy what November brings.  I took some time on our walks to and from the school to really savor November's beauty.  The littlest and I remarked almost daily on the different trees... which ones still had many leaves to shed and which ones already had their "winter look".  I found myself not complaining as much about the dreary and rainy days, and really noticing the resident rodents doing their winter prep.  So I thank my friend and Robert Frost for opening my eyes and letting me really enjoy my November.

And of course... now I want to talk about Thanksgiving.  My first Thanksgiving not travelling back to see family was spent with Jason in Michigan, wandering around looking for an open restaurant, then ending up back at the apartment heating up some frozen dinners.  My second Thanksgiving not with family was me trying to whip up a feast for two minus a turkey... not incredibly memorable.  My third Thanksgiving was a conscious decision to instill some tradition into my own home, which resulted in an extremely stressful day where I nearly starved my kids waiting for a turkey whose pop-up thermometer never popped.  So as my list of what I wanted to serve at this Thanksgiving grew and grew, it's understandable that I started to worry if I was taking on too much.  However, thanks to making some items ahead I truly felt like I had everything under control and not only was my day free of stress (I even had time to pause and cut Jason's hair), I was in the best mood I've been in a long while.  Initially, I was sad that we wouldn't be sharing our table with any family or friends (especially considering the amount of food I was planning to prepare), but then I realized that, in addition to the plethora of leftovers, I was practicing for the day that I host Thanksgiving... and that gave me a nice warm comfortable feeling inside that allowed me to stop being sad and focus on all the blessings that I currently have.

My Thanksgiving Day Menu:
Turkey
Stuffing
Gravy
Pumpkin Bread Pudding
Sweet Potato Casserole
Green Bean Casserole
Harvard Beets
Mashed Potatoes
Glazed Carrots with Dried Cherries
Corn Souffle
Cranberry Sauce
Hot Rolls
Veggie Tray with Bacon Dip
Pumpkin Pie









I realized something about myself over this weekend.  I'm happiest when I'm in the kitchen cooking... not cooking because I have to, but cooking because I want to.  This shouldn't be that 'new' of a realization, especially after all the cooking that I did this summer.  I think the realization evolved more out of the fact that I have been in this undeterrable funk for longer than I would like to admit and as I cooked and cooked and readied for our Thanksgiving feast, I noticed that my mood was light and relaxed.  And I've already started a list in my head about all the wonderful things that I plan to cook up with our leftover turkey.  Today I made a turkey pot pie that was absolutely delicious.  I'm looking ahead to a turkey and wild rice soup... yum!  Hmmm... what else?

My Heart... So Blue

This song randomly came on my mp3 player today while I was prepping for the holiday feast and suddenly I couldn't get you off my mind... not that you are truly ever completely absent.  I started thinking about what it would be like if you could come and share in this gargantuan feast I'm going to serve... how much you would love the sweet potatoes (my mom's recipe).  Yes, you would make a face first, but then you would try them to make me happy... and then you'd help yourself to seconds and maybe even thirds.  I thought about how you would talk to the littles and they would immediately love you... much like I do.

Yes.  I miss you terribly.

It's been three and a half years since we've said good-bye.  I know that it's been even longer since the last time we spoke... and it hurts every time I think about that.  But I try to think of all the good... and there is so very much of it.

I love how your smile was big enough to compensate for all my frowns.  I love how you influenced my listening horizon... a lot of what I still listen to is because of you.  I love how you brought me out of my shell (at least as much as you possibly could).  I love how you made yourself a part of my world... even when initially I resisted.  I love how you listened even when I didn't really know what I was trying to say.  I love how I can't go home without driving by our apartment.  I love how you've embedded yourself into all things tiki.  I love that you were my friend.

But I never got to say goodbye.  Were you looking down that day, seeing all your friends gathered in one place and wonder why I wasn't there?  I'm so sorry... I wanted to be there.  I try so hard to not focus on the regret... to focus on the sound of your voice the last time we spoke, when you were so happy that you just bought your first house.  The house that still holds everything you loved.  I did finally get to see it.  It's great... very easy to see why you were so happy.  You just sounded so content... life was going so good.  You were taken too soon and it's just unfair.  Completely.  Utterly. 

This is the first time that I've put any of my thoughts down.  It's been so long, I guess I thought that at some point the hurt would fade.  It hasn't... and now, I worry that by doing this, it will lessen how I feel, because knowing that your are still so present in my mind and in my heart, I would hate... HATE... for that to fade.

Yes.  I love you.  And I miss you terribly.  And I hope that you know that wherever you are.