My talented Mother-in-Law’s super cool Thanksgiving garland, made with lunch sacks and dyed with tea bags.

In my rush to get the house picked up (ha ha…why do we even try?), packed for the big trip East, Greg’s family’s Christmas gifts bought and wrapped, keep my commitments at school and elsewhere…I was unable to line up a set of Thanksgiving week posts that would self-publish in my absence.  I made placeholders.  I took the pictures.  It was somewhere around the “save in draft” part of my week that the ball got dropped.  At some point, this girl has to sleep.

We attended 3 Thanksgiving dinners this year, because you know, well, we love to eat.  And at every table when asked for my annual thankful speech, I could only muster the words, “It’s been such a fantastic year.  One helluva year.  I’m thankful for the whole thing.”  And 3x I was met with a bit of stunned silence.  I can’t recall when my long, windy Thanksgiving oratories began.  Was I 6 years old?  Maybe 7?  At the holidays, I usually have a few things to say.  Last Christmas I read a poem so deeply moving to me, I cried.  No one was embarrassed by my tears, because after all, I cry at Kool-Aid commercials (GOD!  The dyes!  Are they trying to KILL us?!).  But this year, I found myself at a loss for words.  I’ve written well over 1,000 posts, so part of me wanted to say, “Really guys, I’ve said it all.  I have nothing left to add.”  Part of me wanted to just raise my hands to God in silent praise.  Most of me wanted to drop my head in exhaustion, in complete shock that we’ve made it this far.

The past few years have been exceptionally challenging and soul-searching and heart-wrenching and escape to a remote island and change my name and hide for a while thought inducing.  But THIS year…THIS was the year: the year answers came to light, the year interventions made a difference, the year progress was made, the year REAL life returned.  Sleep is finally restorative again.  Food is finally savory again.  Activities are so full of joy, and so not just going through the motions.  I am finally inhabiting my days again, which is to say, each day gets lived quietly and thoughtfully.  THIS has been a GOOD year.

So it can’t go without being said in this space that I am thankful for you.  You have witnessed this journey.  You have joined me in this place, and laughed, and cried, and reminded me again and again that we are not alone.  With God giving me the courage to write it (calling him or her by any name you wish), he also brought you here, where you have cheered me forward, and hopefully shared a laugh or two.  Your presence has meant the world to me, and for you, I am thankful.