Thanksgiving 22

The October chill is in the air, the leaves are still golden, and another thanksgiving has come and gone. It’s my favourite time of year. The ‘Ber months, my friend calls them - spanning from September to December, as summer turns to fall turns to winter, and packed full of holidays and celebrations. This is the time of year when my soul comes alive.

Every time I think of Thanksgiving, I think of 2 years ago in that tiny rented apartment. I was newly transplanted, newly released from the hospital, and it was just my husband, sister and I. The rest of my family had crossed provincial lines, and I wasn’t yet allowed to be more than a short distance away from my transplant center. My first ‘big’ outing post transplant was to te grocery store to get food for that thanksgiving dinner, that i don’t actually remember eating any of. I do remember how proud I was standing beside that shopping cart. I even dressed up for the occassion.

This thanksgiving, the first one where the majority of my family doesn’t live within walking distance, Cody and I loaded up the car with suitcases and the puppy and hit the road, making the 5 hour drive back to my transplant city, where my baby is buried, and where the entirety of my family of origin now lives (aside from my brother, who is currently in Jordan.)

We were able to take IV to the cemetary where Paris is, and while I don’t usually get emotional visiting him anymore (being at P’s grave is my happy place. It’s the kind of contentment only a bereaved parent can understand), bringing IV, and having my tiny family all together in one spot brought out the tears. It was a reminder that this is the only way our family will be together, and of the empty chair around the thanksgiving table.

Thanksgiving is a time for gratitude, but if I’m being honest this year especially felt bittersweet. We were together, except for when we weren’t. I’m healthy, except for when I’m not. Ther'e’s always this but in the middle of every sentence.

And this year I’m learning to be grateful for the buts. I’m grateful for good therapists, strong coffee, deep friendships, a job I love, autumn leaves and moments of togetherness. For all the loss that made all this life possible.