It took me more than an entire day to find the energy/block the pain long enough to type this much, so I know y'all won't mind if this post comes in fits and starts... here's the beginning. But let me just say this so you won't worry too much: today, we are all making do. We are all pushing through. We are all, hope to God, getting better.
From Wednesday's Post:
Because of issues - health, family, other assorted craziness - tomorrow is not looking like the easiest day, but also it is definitely not our hardest, and that is something to remember.
Why, exactly, do I feel the need to tempt fate? Was it our worst day ever... no. I've had a lot of worse days. And, sadly, will probably have more in the close-future. But... it was certainly our worst Thanksgiving.
Which makes it a prize, because five or six years ago, my Thanksgiving was spent in bed, while the rest of my family went to my aunt's house. And while I did not miss the in-law who laughs like a hyena, scarecrow girl, or the constant smell of wet dog, I did miss the family, the dinner, the connection.
Three or four years ago, in the week coming up to Thanksgiving, the PUS decided to spread mothballs in our basement, and I had to evacuate. I spent the week leading up to, and that Thanksgiving morning, bunked on the couch at Grandmother's house, and eventually got home in time to have a Thanksgiving meal with one sister, Mum & I, all laying on my bed, watching The Grinch. (And, this is all without mentioning my usual Post-Holiday Flare.)
And then, two years ago on Thanksgiving my Grandmother (my father's mother) passed out on our kitchen floor and we had to call the ambulance. She left looking like a ghost, and my brother said as she did "I feel like I'm never going to see her again." Fortunately, he was wrong: she's still alive and in pretty great health for a 90 year old. But it was unbelievably scary, impossibly chilling.
But, somehow, this Thanksgiving beat them all.