Monday, October 8, 2012

Thanksgiving is not a physical place

I am breathing quite slowly, the subtle scent of sun baked earth assaults my nostrils. The shock of bright lime palms dazzles my eyes, but I am calm. The breeze is warm but prevents a sweat, even in this 35 degree heat. The sun is deceptively affectionate, beyond the roof construction above me. It sets the sea afire with a glint that excites and entices. 
This is where I am doing my laundry today, in paradise, on Thanksgiving Day. 

I can’t help but reflect.
I won’t be partaking in the traditional Thanksgiving feasts of Canada, or even the one organised at a local marina (due to my failure to be organised enough to book us in), but I am no less thankful. I don’t need a belly full of turkey and stuffing to know that I am a lucky girl.
My family is far away today, and though I will miss my sister flittering around the kitchen, with exotic hors d’ouvres on the table, and succulent flesh in the oven, I am really with them in spirit.
I miss my boy, all 19 years and stretch limbs, with his baby smooth skin and towering hugs. Miss his gentle spirit. But I am wrapped around him with love and he can feel it. 
My little mom, fragile but so strong, always colour coordinated and full of compassion for all of us, will be there, where I am not, but I hear her ‘I love you honey’ and feel her tight little hug.
And Dad, reserved, but wearing his love there, just under his sleeve. He will be cringing at the energy of his hurricane grandkids, racing around his knees, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. His little text messages speak volumes for me, a world or so away physically.
 We’re all connected. And it doesn’t end there.
Thankful covers so many things. So many emotions. So difficult to be thankful for the reality that separates me from my littlest one, lost to us and to this world. But my life is rich beyond words for having known him.
And so I am thankful for his small neck, with it’s peach fuzz blond hairs, lying in a graceful little pattern, on the burnished brown skin below. Yes, I am thankful for the memories that sit solidly inside me. Offering up his tiny hand, dirt under the round nails, he’s been playing in the yard with his friends, leading a parade. He is sweating and his eyes alight. I am overwhelmed by his charm. 
 Shiloh, namesake of our forward vessel, I carry you forever with me.
I thank the wind and the waves, for accepting us, into a life chapter of exploring, tasting, seeing, feeling… for all that lies ahead, and all that led me here.
Thanks to the love of my life, a partner in every sense. For the only one I’ve known who took a dream and polished it, formed it and brought it to light. I am thankful for loving and being loved. It truly is what makes life amazing.
And I’m off to collect the warm, soft towels from the dryer. Thankful even for the cozy smell that awaits me.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Stay connected and marvel at the beauty of love.

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