For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving has been about Grandmama's House. My mother grew up in Fort Deposit, a tiny town in SW Alabama, and most of her family still lives in or near there. After she and my father married and moved to Florida, my mother started the tradition of returning to Grandmama's every year at Thanksgiving, to celebrate the holidays. She missed seeing her family at Christmas, but felt strongly attached to the new Christmas traditions we - as a family - shared in Clearwater. So, the Thanksgiving extravaganza was born, and so it continues. This year marks 33 years.
As the oldest grandchild, I am clearly the most delinquent for I have missed the celebration twice.
In 1999, Peegie and I spent a gorgeous and lovely Thanksgiving week sailing the Exumas aboard Buddy, drinking rum, swimming in gin-clear water, soaking up the sun, eating Healthy Choice turkey from the package and dancing under the stars.
This year, I am at home, 35 weeks' pregnant, STRONGLY advised to stay close to home and my very capable doctors...
Yesterday, as I thought about the goings-on at my Grandmama's house, in preparation for the big day, I got a bit sad thinking, "my whole family is there, and I can't be there, and I really miss being there for this holiday."
Then it hit me: MY whole family is HERE. Peegie, Ziggy and me. That is MY whole family, and here we are, together. I have much to be thankful for.
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