Thanksgiving 2011

So many times, I find myself writing a post on gratitude, and how perfect that once again, I sit to type out something and it revolves around this mysteriously hidden virtue, right at the perfect holiday: Thanksgiving.

Most of the day, was bliss, truly. School is out, projects are complete, and today, I became reacquainted with my kitchen. I just couldn't stop myself. It was is if my Stove and I were long lost friends that I got the chance to sip some tea with and re-live the past few months, laugh and finally settle past neglect, with new vigor and resolve to never allow the busy world to come in between us again.

So I pushed my old friend today, The Stove and my KitchenAid, for Thanksgiving treats and kid friendly deserts in preparation for the big day of gratitude. The kids played board games, Babe even made domino's to knock down all the while accompanied by squeals of glee. It was a day to come back together, as for a while now, we've gone our separate ways, passing each other to check homework and a quick kiss on the cheek at bedtime.

And then, my dear Hero Husband called and rocked my heart with some tragically sad news, which I hope and pray can't be true. A dear friend's brother may be suffering from a kind of quick acting cancer, and this dear friend has had numerous family and friends suffer and lost to varied kinds of the deadly disease. This latest news, hit so close to home for him, and for HH and honestly for me too.

I barely know the individual involved, however what struck me was not so much cancer itself, which it should of course, what struck me was the age of this young man to be (perhaps) slowly losing his life. Twenty-eight. That's a number. 28 years old. What was I doing at that age? My Serious was born that year. My third child had blessed our home and we were high, it felt literally, on life. That same year, we discovered God in His wisdom had blessed our clan with yet another pregnancy, as little Entertainer was being formed in this womb of mine....and while yes, a little stressed out at the thought of Irish twins, I did find consolation in learning how to trust.

But this young man, a life barely lived. Not married, no kids. Not that those things completely make a life, but certainly waiting for those gifts in life puts things into perspective. Having waited for those kinds of commitments, perhaps is a blessing, as he will not leave a young wife, and one or two small children as well. Perhaps it's the opposite, he waited too long for a family, and now it's unfortunately, too late. Who knows. Deciphering God seems useless at times, during tragic news like this, as we once again recognize we aren't the ones in control. We aren't the ones calling the shots. We are human, and as much as we like to believe we are the god of our own little worlds, we are reminded in moments such as these that only God knows the plans He has for us all. And our humanity reminds us of our frailty, our weaknesses, our dependence on God for all things.

And that’s exactly what makes it difficult. We are forced to trust in someone whom we can’t see, or touch or understand on our human level. It can often put us in conflict, unable to understand, or see the bigger plan God has in mind. Faith being what it is, calls us to still believe in joyous moments, and yes, even in tragic ones. God is the ever-constant in our lives, as things will come and go, people live and die around us, and yet, we are meant to stay faithful, ever searching to complete God’s will on this earth.

As we struggle to know the proper response to these friends, what to say, what to do, what is the right thing, I also mentally prepare for Thanksgiving Mass. In a world that is always eager for the 'more' that life can bring, we look to the simple things in life this year: a morning of baking goodies, of smiling children playing board games, a good cup of tea, a listening friend, and yes, good health that God has blessed our family with, and give all the glory and honor to the only One in charge, the only One who indeed, rules the world.