Finding thanks

I've never liked Thanksgiving a whole lot. The visions of overeating in front of the football game, and having fun playing board games was never my Thanksgiving. That's because my childhood memories of the holiday include a musty town hall, paper plates that always dripped on you at some point, little to do in terms of fun, nobody near my age to talk to, and a freezing bathroom that you didn't dare use unless you absolutely had to lest you spend the rest of the evening trying to get warm again.

My mom's family was too large to fit in a house, so this became the fix - someplace everyone could gather that was near enough to my grandma's house that she didn't have to travel, and in the woods so that the hunters wouldn't show up too late. It was probably a fine solution for the adults who wanted to talk about adult things and didn't mind the dank smell of old person that permeated the entire place. But for someone young, waiting in that awful place for hunters to come in (who were ALWAYS late), it was almost torturous. And it, combined with a lot of food I never really loved, made me learn to dislike the holiday pretty intensely. That feeling stayed with me well into my adulthood.

And yet, finally, I've found a renewed appreciation for the holiday. I am still not a big fan of turkey (What would be so very wrong with a Thanksgiving ribs?), but I have finally turned around my thinking about it as a holiday. Because I've become fortunate enough to be a part of one with football games on, babies toddling around, hugs, laughs, pies made with lard crusts, beers, cribbage, a giggling kids table, and love everywhere. (Not to mention, barns and sheds that are just begging to be photographed!)

This year, I realized, I am intensely grateful for this. Thankful, if you will.