The days leading up to Thanksgiving were all over the map. We knew we wouldn't have everyone here. That didn't really bother me since that's more the norm these past years than not.  It didn't bother me that much anyway.  Not right at first.  As the day approached that began to change. 

We had begun an ambitious reflooring project and my husband took days off work to finish before Thanksgiving.  Once the carpet came up however we decided we should have a contractor assess the concrete before we moved on.  That meant finishing before the holiday was no longer ambitious, it was impossible. Meantime the entire schoolroom and family room were disassembled and packed tightly in other rooms. 

The day before Thanksgiving we were reading from our autumn reading list and doing some cooking ahead.  My husband had cancelled his working vacation days and we were just focusing on a nice, if cozy, weekend.  The phone rang with an unknown number.  Since one daughter was traveling I answered.  It was the social worker who handled my mother's hospice case. I am sure he was just closing out his files before the long weekend but man.  That was really rotten timing.  Grief is like that I think.  You coast along and then something will bring you right back to that place again. 

I struggled a bit to get my bearings again afterwards.  There was a deep rumble in the sky outside and snow began to fall.  I left the kitchen prep for morning and called it a night. That was an excellent idea.  Years ago an older mom advised me to try hard not to think about any big difficult things at the end of the day.  No matter what it is, she said, it will always look worst then.  Somehow in the morning it will go better.  

She was right. She has always been right about that. The sun rose in a bright blue sky and shone down on fresh fallen snow. Our daughter and fiance texted that they made their flight fine and were on their way.  The tension from the previous weeks lifted and all I cared about was sitting around our table with as many of our kids as we were blessed to have with us.  

Before you knew it there they were, squeezed on the couch with their faraway sister again. 

The over here sister got up early and made pies. 

From their spot near the window the little girls noticed deer across the street

This year's favorite was the cinnamon roll apple pie fwiw. 

A wonderful new friend was able to join us for dinner.  We skyped with the Colorado kids who were making their first Thanksgiving dinner together. We played with silly snapchat apps and then stayed up watching You've Got Mail.  Because Meg Ryan and children's books and daisies, right?  The verdict came in.  The floor is sound and we can press on with the project.  Huge blessing.

Not all the news that comes across my desk or through my phone is good, some of it tries to worry the joy right out of me. Most of that will never make these pages.  Still there is always an awful lot to be thankful for and so much of that is looking back at me across the table.