First things first
I made a change in Monday’s post, which
Proves to be no small thing for this reason:
Many verbs had need to change from past to present
Acknowledging that I’ll never be invincible to
Experiencing human vulnerability to emotionality
Time and again, I must remind myself that
It’s healthy to tell myself what to do when
An emotional reaction arises but it’s not
Healthy to deny the depths of what I feel, and
Here’s why that’s true:
‘Doing or not doing’ is a matter of choice whereas
Feelings emerge naturally so to deny the existence of
Emotions that I refuse to consciously acknowledge as my own is to
Lie to myself until an intuitive train of thought conveys
A painful deeper truth into my conscious awareness by way of
A flash of insight regarding the eruptive nature of
An inner conflict spotlighting a character trait that
Proves in need of identifying, exploring and
Resolving before my disrupted sense of inner peace is restored
In short, with intuition as my guide, I no longer remain
Stuck in a state of emotional unrest between a rock and a hard place for
As long as had been true when my defense system had usurped
So much control over my think tank as to have blocked
My intuitive powers from growing so strong as to oversee both sides of
The playing field that comprises the whole of my brain, and
Being that tomorrow is Thanksgiving, it’s only fitting that
This week sees me feeling grateful for having chosen to participate in
Sessions of EMDR therapy, which encourage me to muster
This trio of inner strengths, namely: courage, humility and
Patience, which are necessary to undertake one personal growth spurt after
Another, and having reached this point in today’s intuitive train of thought
Here comes the spotlight of insight, concerning change for the better that
My subconscious feels ready to disclose, right now:
Over these past several years, hosting Thanksgiving has shifted to the younger generation, which thankfully has cheerfully picked up the baton. At my age, I could no longer deny that preparing the sumptuous nature of this feast along with decorating our home before welcoming twenty to thirty loved ones to break bread at our table got to be too taxing for me, and after our hosting tradition had been passed down, all thoughts of guest lists flew out of my mind, though the same was not true of preparing the greater part of this annual feast, because we still cook up every dish except the turkey. And why is that true? Because my husband and sons believe that no one can whip up their traditional favorites, which must flank the bird (Steven’s undertaking along with hosting extended family at his home for the very first time), but me.
You see, each time a guest offered to make a favorite, using my recipe, my family, being well trained in the good manner’s department, would ooh and aah over how delighted their taste buds were until the last guest had departed, at which time a quartet of males would seek me out, crooning in unison: No one’s making the knishes, sweet potato casserole and green beans almandine with mushrooms but you! They’d agreed that my friends’ attempts to reproduce our favorites had resulted in unpalatable mushiness or crustiness that proved unacceptable, so eventually, over time, I asked my quartet to lend a hand in preparing their favorites for twenty or more, and as each one proved affable to that change in plan, smiles abound all around, and if guests asked to add to our feast not one of my lads need fear that a traditional favorite will fall short of ‘perfection’.
Though my mind was (and is) intent on relaxing pain and frustration, Sunday saw yours truly standing at our expansive, L shaped kitchen island with Will, who was peeling six pounds of potatoes while I fried up two large fry pans of chopped onions in preparation for Monday, when dough would be kneaded, rolled out, cut into circles and stuffed with our buttery, peppery, oniony potato concoction as our tradition of knish-making (handed down from Will’s aromainian Grandma) demands. And having turned up the volume on oldies but goodies while frying those onions, I found myself wandering down memory lane, reminiscing over Thanksgivings, long past, when I was a child, decades before our three sons had ever held rolling pins in their small hands followed by years when Jeremy, Marnie and Jeremy’s daughter, our niece and her husband and three young sons encircled our expansive kitchen island along with our grown sons as some of us stuffed and others fried while another generation of children (who are now grown) rolled dough with Will until the tolling pin was passed to Ravi, who, at barely two, had delighted in rolling dough with her papa for the very first time,last year, and while feeling nostalgic about all of those Thanksgiving blessings in the past when family flew in from all over the country in celebration of loving togetherness in our home ... my mind came to rest upon the visualization of extended family sleeping all over the house wherever a bed could be made of a couch, and while considering the nature of the circle of life, I realized how difficult this week’s holiday must be for Marnie, and in addition to feeling sad for her irreplaceable loss of Jeremy, I felt remiss while reaching out with heartfelt words of love. Why? Because, though she and Jeremy had not celebrated Thanksgiving with us in quite a few years, I’d not thought to invite my grieving sister-in-law to share in the festivities with us. Thank goodness, Marnie, who lives many hundreds of miles away from our home, replied that she plans to fly north to celebrate with her brother.
On Monday, Will, Steven and Edie did most of the work rolling, stuffing and frying more than one hundred knishes while I pitched in, here and there. Upon reflection, I’m truly amazed at the amount of preparation I’d achieved on my own while raising three active sons, teaching at the college, writing articles and sitting on boards in addition to hosting most of the holidays, throughout the year, within our home.
Upon reflection, I also felt relieved to note that I’d felt remiss rather than flooded with guilt as would have been true in the past once thoughts of Marnie came to mind. And so, though sadness for Marnie’s loss of Jeremy snd Jenna’s loss of Jamie weigh heavy on my heart, the healthy degree of my compassion acknowledges another growth spurt, and the awareness of personal growth naturally bouys my spirit.
If there’s one thing that’s constant, it’s the fact that my reactions to life experiences continue to change, sometimes in ways that enrich my heart and sometimes in ways that arouse nostalgia for what has past with no idea of what lies directly ahead; and I believe I can feel thankful to note that flogging myself with undeserved guilt is a self defeating trait that is no longer mine, and with this festive holiday only a day away! I’m sending you heartfelt wishes for a happy and healthy Thanksgiving, wrapped in warm hugs and lots of love,
❤️Annie
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