Today I ended up eating two Thanksgiving dinners; one with my family at home, and one out with Susan and her aunt. One meal was not better than the other; they were just very different from one another. You know those compare-and-contrast essays that teachers are great about making their elementary school students write? Well that’s sort of like what I want to write right now…
There was no dressing up for dinner at my house (lunch, really, because we ate at 1:00 or so); everyone was in sweaters and hoodies… Sarah was in her pajamas. We didn’t pray. We didn’t even wait until everyone was sitting at the table to start eating; my sisters, Jack and Court (who’s our single, 20-something year old, next door neighbor whom we’ve sort of adopted as our brother and whom spends every holiday with us) all definitely started eating while my mom and I were still in the kitchen trying to get all of the food ready. There was swearing. There was a lot of swearing, and when the no-swearing rule was finally put into effect there was spelling out of swear words. There was a small amount of bickering and arguing, and no after-dinner conversation; we pretty much all left the table as soon as we were done eating, regardless of whether or not everyone else was done.
Dinner with Susan and her aunt was in a restaurant. There were prayers, and lots of smiles, “I love you”’s and “Happy Thanksgiving!”’s. Conversation flowed freely throughout the meal, and we were all dressed nicely and had great table manners. The whole evening was slow and relaxed, and the three of us were happy just to be with one another.
I’m sort of in awe at the differences between the two meals. It’s sort of comical, really…or at least I’m choosing to see things that way. In either case, I was with people I loved. There was laughter at both meals… and really good food. In both settings I was grateful. I feel blessed to have been able to spend this holiday with both my family and with Susan, and I suppose that that feeling is all that really matters.
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