This year, Thanksgiving was different. It is like the question asked at Passover, how is this Thanksgiving different from all other Thanksgivings? I didn't spend it with my family, now shrunken to my brother and former sister-in-law, both of whom decamped to sunnier climes, leaving me behind.
Although my beloved friend Lydia invited me, and although it meant boarding my cat Orange Boy, which is traumatic for him, traumatic for me, and expensive, I decided the right thing to do was to accompany sweetie Twin down to Virginia to spend the day with his 90-year-old father and his care-giving brother.
The ride was long and arduous; thankfully, Twin is a terrific driver and a wonderful travel companion. And when we arrived, Twin's brother and father were so welcoming, and so outspokenly grateful that we came, and that I came, I knew I had made the right decision. It was what Thanksgiving should be about - family, gratitude, warmth.
AND when we got back to the hotel, the heated pool was still open, so Twin and I played Sole Tag and Marco Polo!
Two gifts along the way - going there, lighted crosses on a mountain that flickered and seemed to move, ethereal and supernatural looking; returning, a huge, pale rainbow spanning the horizon. Thank you, God.
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