The other day a few of my friends and I celebrated a belated Thanksgiving meal. I hosted, and they acted as sous chefs, eagerly helping every step of the way. It was a day of cooking, eating, drinking wine, and chatting. And it was good.
Oddly, despite the somewhat chaotic nature of the day, I felt extremely relaxed. I enjoyed having something to focus on. The lead up to the day instilled motivation in me as I spent the preceding days shopping and prepping, joyfully playing my mum's role for a just little while. I felt so grown up. So organised. By the end I felt tired and wired, to be sure, but it was such a huge accomplishment for me that the meal tasted a hundred times better than any Thanksgiving meal I've ever ate previously.
I'd cooked Thanksgiving meals in the past for friends. It always tasted good but it was always very stressful, last minute, rushed, and on a thin budget. This time, it was on my terms, in my kitchen, and I did it. Despite my widow brain. The thing is, people forget, that my brain is still scrambled. I feel like it completely shut down when P died and it's been reprogramming and rebooting slowly ever since. I know I'm a lot better now. I no longer look, talk, and walk like a zombie, but I still struggle to remember things, whole conversations are often lost in my memory. People take it personally, but seriously? I can't even remember when I've taken something out of my bag and moved it to the next room sometimes. It's like there are gaps in my mind, and I am constantly having mini blackouts. So the fact that I was able to plan a whole Thanksgiving, complete with a stuffed turkey breast, homemade, from scratch cornbread stuffing, cranberry relish, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, green beans, and a pumpkin pie, feels like a small miracle. Oh and we had nibbles to start as well.
And then we sat down to watch It's a Wonderful Life. Another family tradition of mine I was happy to share with friends. They had to leave before the film finished, so I had the chance to sit alone and really focus on the message of the film. And it surprised me to find that I identify with George Bailey. I, too, have always dreamt of seeing the world, of doing big things, and making something of myself....
"I'm shakin' the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world. Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Colosseum. Then, I'm comin' back here to go to college and see what they know. And then I'm gonna build things. I'm gonna build airfields, I'm gonna build skyscrapers a hundred stories high, I'm gonna build bridges a mile long... "
Sure I've seen more of the world than George Bailey ever did, but instead of thinking 'Why'd we have to have all these kids anyway?' I find myself thinking the usual thought why'd I have to lose the love of my life at age 26? Why was my life stolen from me? P's from him?
As cliche as it sounds, this past year has been a blur and often I've felt like it's been a wasted year. Nearly 28 years old and I still don't know what I want to do with my life, or where I want to live. In a very different way, I too feel stuck like George Bailey. Stuck in a life I didn't choose. But I guess the challenge now is to see that no matter where life has landed you, or the cards you've been dealt, It's a Wonderful Life if you choose to see it. If P hadn't died, I never would have gone sky diving, ran a half marathon, or learnt to scuba dive. I never would have met some of the most wonderful people that I am blessed to know now. Certain friendships would never have blossomed or rekindled. Out of the ashes comes new life, if you let it. So as strange as it may sound, as hard as it may be to say aloud, there are so many things to be thankful for this holiday season, if you choose to see it.
Oddly, despite the somewhat chaotic nature of the day, I felt extremely relaxed. I enjoyed having something to focus on. The lead up to the day instilled motivation in me as I spent the preceding days shopping and prepping, joyfully playing my mum's role for a just little while. I felt so grown up. So organised. By the end I felt tired and wired, to be sure, but it was such a huge accomplishment for me that the meal tasted a hundred times better than any Thanksgiving meal I've ever ate previously. I'd cooked Thanksgiving meals in the past for friends. It always tasted good but it was always very stressful, last minute, rushed, and on a thin budget. This time, it was on my terms, in my kitchen, and I did it. Despite my widow brain. The thing is, people forget, that my brain is still scrambled. I feel like it completely shut down when P died and it's been reprogramming and rebooting slowly ever since. I know I'm a lot better now. I no longer look, talk, and walk like a zombie, but I still struggle to remember things, whole conversations are often lost in my memory. People take it personally, but seriously? I can't even remember when I've taken something out of my bag and moved it to the next room sometimes. It's like there are gaps in my mind, and I am constantly having mini blackouts. So the fact that I was able to plan a whole Thanksgiving, complete with a stuffed turkey breast, homemade, from scratch cornbread stuffing, cranberry relish, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, green beans, and a pumpkin pie, feels like a small miracle. Oh and we had nibbles to start as well.
And then we sat down to watch It's a Wonderful Life. Another family tradition of mine I was happy to share with friends. They had to leave before the film finished, so I had the chance to sit alone and really focus on the message of the film. And it surprised me to find that I identify with George Bailey. I, too, have always dreamt of seeing the world, of doing big things, and making something of myself....
Sure I've seen more of the world than George Bailey ever did, but instead of thinking 'Why'd we have to have all these kids anyway?' I find myself thinking the usual thought why'd I have to lose the love of my life at age 26? Why was my life stolen from me? P's from him?
As cliche as it sounds, this past year has been a blur and often I've felt like it's been a wasted year. Nearly 28 years old and I still don't know what I want to do with my life, or where I want to live. In a very different way, I too feel stuck like George Bailey. Stuck in a life I didn't choose. But I guess the challenge now is to see that no matter where life has landed you, or the cards you've been dealt, It's a Wonderful Life if you choose to see it. If P hadn't died, I never would have gone sky diving, ran a half marathon, or learnt to scuba dive. I never would have met some of the most wonderful people that I am blessed to know now. Certain friendships would never have blossomed or rekindled. Out of the ashes comes new life, if you let it. So as strange as it may sound, as hard as it may be to say aloud, there are so many things to be thankful for this holiday season, if you choose to see it.
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