Something for Which I am Thankful
I grew up in a house where everyone was welcome. We didn’t have a lot, but holidays were days when those who didn’t have a place to go, or couldn’t get home, came to enjoy food, fun and laughter. My parents shared what they had until it was gone. I’m thankful to have been raised by people with such generosity, and hope to keep their legacy alive.
Scruffy guys on motorcycles, college students, and friends with nowhere to go were among the guests from year to year. My mom always invited them in, no matter who they were or how they were dressed. Some were surprised, some were shy, some were ridiculously hungry. All were grateful for the acceptance and love offered in our house. Formal prefixes weren’t necessary or often used, it was either Nana, Grampa, Mom, or Dad. They were the parents who were there for everyone who showed up on their doorstep.
To this day, the tradition continues in our family. Like a community table filled with good food, drink, and shared experiences. Stories old and new, unique to each of us who partake.
Happy Thanksgiving. I hope yours was filled with love, and laughter.
Xoxo
Dena
