Always Grateful
I grew up spending Thanksgiving weekend with my Mom’s entire extended family. It was the only time of year we would see each other and we would take turns descending on each other’s homes all around the country. As a child these weekends felt chaotic and magical, so many relatives of all ages to play with, big meals with many pies, fun outings in whatever town we were in that year and an added bonus of also celebrating Hannukah at the end with mounds of gifts for us all to open. As I grew up I still anxiously awaited the weekend each Fall to be together with everyone, so many people and dogs, only the best kind of mayhem. And of course along the way our gatherings only grew with new husbands and wives and babies being born as another generation joined in our traditions.
The year our son was born my parents hosted as I was going to be 8 months pregnant and travel would be hard- I was thrilled. Of course our son had other plans and instead arrived a few weeks before Thanksgiving. While leaving the NICU for the entire weekend was never a consideration we did decide to drive the 2 hours to be with my family for a few hours on Thanksgiving. It was bittersweet knowing my son was not with us but I will forever be grateful I went without realizing it was the last one I could attend for some time.
As I became sicker and travel became harder it was clear the Thanksgiving celebration I was accustomed to for the first 31 years of my life was impossible to attend. It felt devastating at first - giving into my disease - being forced to miss out. But we began new traditions - celebrating with our immediate and combined families in ways that were safe for me to attend but filled with many special magical moments together.
And then last year, we walked the same halls of the hospital, again on Thanksgiving, as our son was inpatient. A glaring reminder that the diseases we daily fight to live in spite of can’t be pushed away entirely. This time it was harder as my son knew what Thanksgiving was and he was looking forward to our celebration. And while of course this was unexpected and upsetting our family still found a way to bring Thanksgiving to him, decorating his room and setting up food, proving that it doesn’t really matter where you are as long as you are with those you love.
Of course as the weekend approached this year we all had different feelings. The world for the first time experienced what so many rare disease patients must always choose- being safe and putting their health first which means so often missing out on a celebration the way they are used to. A choice I was forced to make years ago when I could no longer travel and be with my entire extended family.
But as we planned this year’s celebration, knowing we would not sit around the physical table with anyone more than ourselves my son immediately said, "but we’ll zoom." I smiled knowing he has learned what matters most - finding ways to connect and be with our loved ones. So we decorated our dining room, set our table and baked pies. And we zoomed, yet again finding a new and safe way to celebrate - still together and always grateful.
