I made a meal of my favorites: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and apple pie. Most everything was out of a box, but that's the delicious Thanksgiving taste I was raised on. Those are the particular flavors I crave, what makes up my favorite meal.
It's because I think of my grandparents and the way my Grandpa Lentz would fill the turkey with stuffing and taste the skin as he carved. The way my Grandma Jackson would tenderly pass the dishes and make sure everyone was happy before she sat herself. The way my Grandma Lentz would take the china out if the cabinet only for these meals and wash them right when we had finished, and how I would help her dry.
This is my third Thanksgiving without family. But I don't feel alone. The food is a connection. The way I approach the day.
I started by running/jogging/walking the Turkey Day 8k this morning in 1:05:11. Not the time I'd wanted, but my left ankle was giving me trouble and so I couldn't move like I'd hoped. But, hey, I can move, and that's the important thing. I legitimately completed an 8k, and that's something new.
Then I took Scooter out to the Pacolet Preserve to run. He celebrated our little hike by chasing some deer and munching on a found cat leg, its foot still hairy with claws. Snickers seemed to know because when we got home she smelled him all over.
I do miss my loves back home, but I'll see them for nearly two weeks around Christmas. My first holidays with Phillip. My first holidays in Kansas since 2009. My first holiday road trip with Scooter.
Yeah, I'm pretty grateful.
No comments:
Post a Comment