Gratitude with a side of turkey

Last year in this space, I talked about how Thanksgiving was going to be so different — our first holiday as a family since my brother Jim passed away. I thought then — hopefully, perhaps naively — that maybe next year would be better. The new normal becoming just plain old normal.

Of course, 2020 is all like, hold my drink. Who needs normal? Amiright??

Like many of you, our Thanksgiving celebration will be small (though with probably no less food than usual). Invitations extended were promptly rescinded with this stupid pandemic surging in scary ways and ours will not be the only table missing loved ones this year.

And yet, there’s still reason to give thanks. Admittedly, I write from a place of privilege (which seems weird to say seeing as how I have “dead brother” on my list of grievances), but this last year, along with the pandemic has brought good into my life:

• My life has never been fast-paced, but this pandemic slow-down has given me even more room to breathe, to ponder, to think about what might be next. Who’s got time to wait for the exact right moment to leap?

• By having to deal with Jim’s death, I learned that I am, indeed, resilient. Grief is funny and doesn’t really have a finish line, but there’s a feeling of having gotten to the other side of it all. And while I would do anything to have him back, I can honestly say that his death has given me a new focus that I wouldn’t otherwise have. Like he used to say, time is of the essence. He’d also say, “Of COURSE I’ll have another piece of pie” which is also very sound advice.

• Perhaps most importantly, I learned that being independent and able to take care of myself is good, but it’s not everything. That asking for help, in ways both big and small, is a measure of strength. And my family and friends who have answered my calls for help reinforced the truth that life is all about relationships. Leaning on someone isn’t being weak, it’s saying, “hey, you’re important to me and I need you in my life.” It’s what makes the world go ’round.

To borrow a phrase from one of my favorite authors, Glennon Doyle, life is “brutiful” — that is, in equal parts, both brutal and beautiful. Every moment has something to teach us, and it’s up to us to be present enough to figure out what the lesson might be. Sometimes it’s how to build a totally new normal, sometimes it’s how to enjoy what we have while knowing that our old normal will be back soon enough. But all the time it’s about recognizing the people in our lives who lift us up and make us laugh and who are always there in spirit, if not in person.

In the meantime, take notice of the small things — the texts and zoom calls from loved ones, the social media memes that make us laugh, the stocking up of Egg Nog Liqueur from Trader Joe’s (wait, am I the only one doing that??) — because those details make moments which make days which make our lives. Find the gratitude, the joy, the beautiful and the brutal and let’s all help each other through this year and the ones to follow.