Thanksgiving is in one week, and I haven't done a single thing to prep for it! For some reason, I always insist on hosting this holiday. J and I used to always host our families, and it was such a great day. Last year, Thanksgiving was a big turning point for me. I actually wrote about it in my journal. Here's what I wrote:

I am supposed to be thankful today, why does that feel impossible?

My house is filled with people; my sister and her family, my brother and his, my parents, cousins, kids, everyone is here. Everyone but Joe. He died 7 months ago in a hospital bed from the chicken pox. I know what you’re thinking. The same thing everyone thinks. Chicken pox? How is that possible? It'’s possible. Dead at age 31. Dead leaving behind a wife who loved him dearly. Dead leaving behind a 10 month old son who adored him. Dead leaving behind a son to be born in July who would never know him. Dead. IÂ’m supposed to be feeling thankful; for what I still have, for what I had. Instead I just feel utter emptiness.
I leave my house while everyone is eating. I can'’t bear to listen to the chatter of useless gossip. "who cares?" I feel like shouting, "“Joe’s dead!" Instead I walk out my front door. Not speaking to anyone. I am sure my family will watch over my boys, they will be fine. I walk around the block, tears streaming uncontrollably. Suddenly I feel myself changing. I am sick of being so sad, sick of feeling empty, sick of being alone. I can’t take this any more. I am going to make a change.

I'll never forget that instant where I got so fed up with being so damn sad all the time. When I look back at this past year, I can't believe how far I've come from that hopeless, lost soul, wandering around her neighborhood. This year, I think I can actually feel thankful for what I have, for what I had, and for my future.

Now...what to cook? Suggestions?

B