Thanksgiving
I know we are supposed to say we are grateful for the people in our lives on this Thanksgiving day, and of course I am, but I am would like to give an honorable mention to a house.
I'm grateful that my Dad still lives in our house on Pinewoods Circle. That he is 85 and well enough to live here on his own is a blessing, but I am also thrilled to have this museum to my life with this family. Books cover the surfaces in almost every room, and where there aren't books, you enjoy pictures of family, paintings my great-grandfather and other talented people painted and small trinkets collected through the years. Everything has a memory, yet like a person, sometimes things change. I'm writing this on my Dad's new laptop (that my husband helped him buy) on a modern leather chair that I'm not sure my mother would have liked. Somehow the two black chairs and white sofa somehow work perfectly in this room filled with well-worn hardcovers and a very tired Persian rug.
I love my life in Bridgewater, but I'm glad my roots are here in small-town, Western New York. I love that no matter where I lived, my room has always been here filled with old school binders, notes my friends and I passed in class and beaten up copies of the very-inappropriate Flowers in the Attic series.
I also know that as wonderful as our home is now, this is one gift I simply won't be giving my children. We will still fill anywhere we live with the larger-than-life pictures of their childhood, but they won't hang in our oversized house. Luckily we have given my kids a childhood full of experiences I couldn't have imagined as I hiked the creek down the street. So even if my kids won't spend Christmas 2030 at our current house, they will have other things for which they should be grateful.
But today on Thanksgiving I love that when I say I'm going home for Thanksgiving, I really am....
... and I'm grateful that we are eating at my cousin's home, so I don't have to cook in this strange kitchen. :-)
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Wherever you are today. Have a wonderful day.
I'm grateful that my Dad still lives in our house on Pinewoods Circle. That he is 85 and well enough to live here on his own is a blessing, but I am also thrilled to have this museum to my life with this family. Books cover the surfaces in almost every room, and where there aren't books, you enjoy pictures of family, paintings my great-grandfather and other talented people painted and small trinkets collected through the years. Everything has a memory, yet like a person, sometimes things change. I'm writing this on my Dad's new laptop (that my husband helped him buy) on a modern leather chair that I'm not sure my mother would have liked. Somehow the two black chairs and white sofa somehow work perfectly in this room filled with well-worn hardcovers and a very tired Persian rug.
I love my life in Bridgewater, but I'm glad my roots are here in small-town, Western New York. I love that no matter where I lived, my room has always been here filled with old school binders, notes my friends and I passed in class and beaten up copies of the very-inappropriate Flowers in the Attic series.
I also know that as wonderful as our home is now, this is one gift I simply won't be giving my children. We will still fill anywhere we live with the larger-than-life pictures of their childhood, but they won't hang in our oversized house. Luckily we have given my kids a childhood full of experiences I couldn't have imagined as I hiked the creek down the street. So even if my kids won't spend Christmas 2030 at our current house, they will have other things for which they should be grateful.
But today on Thanksgiving I love that when I say I'm going home for Thanksgiving, I really am....
... and I'm grateful that we are eating at my cousin's home, so I don't have to cook in this strange kitchen. :-)
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Wherever you are today. Have a wonderful day.
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