Thanksgiving 2021
Email I sent to my sister Mari last Thursday (October 19, 2023, 12:26 p.m.):
"SUBJ: Thanksgiving 2023: scathingly brilliant idea... or crazy as f*ck?
Dear Mari -
This is going to be stream-of-consciousness, but hear me out. Also, no need to decide anything now. Ponder and let me know your thoughts... 🤷
You know Chico and I have always hosted Thanksgiving at our place with the usual cast of characters: The MossFam6, Buck and Kathy, Nancy and Mark, and Duyen the last two years. Even though Eric had moved to Atlanta, he and Duyen were definitely planning to come down to South Florida to participate again (she loved Thanksgiving at our house but, given that her parents are Vietnamese, they didn't really celebrate).
So, after Brad's wedding, which none of our kids were able to attend due to work obligations, Sarah posited (to me only) that maybe we could all go up to Atlanta for Thanksgiving, to get the extended family together again (this was two weeks before E died; little did she know, right?).
Would you be up for everyone descending on you (we could certainly *stay* elsewhere) and you and John hosting a Thanksgiving extravaganza? (I am not in any way suggesting this become an annual tradition; only thinking about 2023). Not sure what traditions Joy's family has but she might be willing to make an exception; we can ask, right? I would absolutely want to invite Duyen too!
We would all certainly help in whatever way needed: cleaning, cooking, set-up, breakdown, washing dishes, etc. Rob makes killer Stuffin' Muffins, using Mom's cornbread dressing recipe.
All that to say... Just. Think. About. It. There is no wrong answer!
Love you so much, and I remain grateful for your continued love and support... 💗"
Mari and John's (her husband) response a short time later: "Fuck Yeah!".
I was ridiculously excited that they were so excited! The more we discussed, the more it sounds like *a lot*... but, again, I promised we will BOOA (Bring Our Own Aprons) as well as our helping hands and willing spirits. The MossFam has always made a good team; why stop now, right?... 🎆
BOOK: Empty Chair, The: Handling Grief on Holidays and Special Occasions by Susan J. Zonnebelt-Smeenge Ed.D., Robert C. De Vries (Contributor)
POEM: Tumbling by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
QUOTE: "We are blowing out candles on third birthdays. We are falling off a bike into a rose bush or a gutter. We are watching wide-eyed and terrified at our dad coming home drunk. We are taking the trash out and having it spill on our feet. We are breaking our favorite coffee mug. We are the adrenaline rush of crashing a car. We are our first kiss. We are not getting to kiss who we want. We are making art or food or mistakes or love. We are screaming angry grief when someone goes before their time. We are a shitty diagnosis. We are putting a pet down. We are watching a bomb drop. We are eating cake. We are eating no cake. We are waiting for the summer sunshine. We are hunkering down for winter. We are getting married or getting divorced or never finding that one person to believe in. We are birth and death and the cosmic wheel of life. We are mending all the broken hearts or breaking them. We are so so much more than political parties. We are made of stardust." ~ Raina Rose
POEM: Tumbling by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
When everything’s falling,
when everything’s broken,
when all is ravel and rubble
and ransacked and ruin
and the world is a stuttering,
guttering blunder,
a plundered and ravaged thing,
that is when wonder arrives on the wings
of forgiving, and living arrives
on the wings of the dead, and
devotion arrives in the wreckage
of loss. And if to love
is to risk being tumbled
and fumbled and wrung out
and sprawled, to love
is also to trust there are hands
that will raise us,
amaze us with kindness,
calm hands that will lift up
our hurt-heavy hearts
as if it they’re as light
as red leaves in the fall.
QUOTE: "We are blowing out candles on third birthdays. We are falling off a bike into a rose bush or a gutter. We are watching wide-eyed and terrified at our dad coming home drunk. We are taking the trash out and having it spill on our feet. We are breaking our favorite coffee mug. We are the adrenaline rush of crashing a car. We are our first kiss. We are not getting to kiss who we want. We are making art or food or mistakes or love. We are screaming angry grief when someone goes before their time. We are a shitty diagnosis. We are putting a pet down. We are watching a bomb drop. We are eating cake. We are eating no cake. We are waiting for the summer sunshine. We are hunkering down for winter. We are getting married or getting divorced or never finding that one person to believe in. We are birth and death and the cosmic wheel of life. We are mending all the broken hearts or breaking them. We are so so much more than political parties. We are made of stardust." ~ Raina Rose
