To Be Thankful

I come from a family that doesn't say prayer before dinner, that doesn't go around the table at Thanksgiving and say what we are each thankful for, nor do I come from a family that openly communicates. Last year at Thanksgiving, my mother and her then-boyfriend hosted Thanksgiving, and before we all were ushered off to my brother's for dessert, blurted out that the next time we saw her, she'd have a different last name. Other than the fact that she announced she was marrying now-husband three days later, I only remember the fact that she made my grandma cry. The last Thanksgiving we were to ever have with my Gram, my mother made her cry.

Tomorrow we will go to my mom's house for Thanksgiving one year later, and according to my mom, we will "have a toast to Grandma". I wonder if my Gram ever told my mom that she didn't approve of her marriage. I wonder if my Gram ever told my mom how she felt that day. I wonder if my mom knows she made my Gram cry. I remember giving my Gram a hug while the tears welled up in her eyes, and she shook her head and said "Why is she doing this? What is she thinking?" I could only say that I wished I knew.

Now, don't get me wrong, our Thanksgivings are never full of angst and argument, nor are they ever full of lively banter and teasing. They are somewhere in the middle, somewhere between duty and enjoyment in the company of a few well-liked relatives and a big fat turkey. But Thanksgiving meant more when Gram was around. She made the gravy, afterall. I will be thoroughly disappointed if, upon tasting my mom's gravy, Thanksgiving takes on a whole new eating direction. But I can't help but wonder if Thanksgiving will feel, well, less thankful, with Gram gone. I know it will never be the same, just as it will never be the same that my dad is not the one carving the turkey, but will still call full of sadness and alcohol sometime later in the night, wishing he hadn't thrown it all away somewhere in his voice.

Tomorrow, it will be hard to bite my tongue and not accuse my mom of ruining the last Thanksgiving Gram ever had. Tomorrow, it will be hard to sit and toast Gram while her seat at the head of the table is filled by someone else.
Tomorrow, it will be hard to take the 3 generation picture, when last year there were 4.
Tomorrow, it will be hard to be thankful, but I will be. I am.

One of the many things I am grateful for is everything my Gram taught me about life and love and family. She was not perfect, not by any stretch, but she embraced life, let it knock her down and then would stomp to her feet again, and enjoyed every bit that she could. For that, I am thankful. Because tomorrow, I will go in to my mother's house knowing that my Gram would want me to sit there and enjoy it, to be thankful for the family that is there, to be thankful for the family that is not, to be thankful for the family that is mine and mine alone- my husband, my son, my dogs; to be thankful for all the time we have to be a family, whether happy or sad time, as time is short on this earth. To be thankful for such things is a blessing. And Gram was right. Family is everything.