They still say that change is inevitable. However, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
It’s been three years, and I’m still receiving notices from the post office for John the pilot to have his mail forwarded to him. Yes, the thought still crosses my mind that if I receive Christmas cards from his family…again, I should inform them of his doings. I have been told that I should write on them, not only “return to sender”, but a little note about how they should check public records to see that he has never owned this home. I should also write that he is a narcissistic sociopath who lies about, not only being a homeowner, but being a pilot as well. I think about it, for a moment, but then I still hear my lawyer’s voice in my head saying, “To what end Gail?” I know that he is right. All that will happen is a possible stirring up of a hornet’s nest and I know he will convincingly inform his family that I am a crazy stalker who steals his mail. Yeah, no, I’d rather leave well enough alone and pray that karma has found its way to him instead…. still…I wonder…nah.
Another holiday is upon us and I still dream about a day that my life will more resemble a TV Holiday Special, than not. A loving family gathered to celebrate, enjoy a bountiful meal and give thanks together. There was a time, long, long ago that my siblings and their children used to gather with us for the holidays, and I suppose there was a degree of love involved while consuming our bountiful meal, but my memories are more of their quarrels and excessive alcohol consumption while I hid in the kitchen to avoid it all. Still, I miss preparing for the gathering, the chaos and the compliments about my cooking. Even though a Norman Rockwell painting we were not, I still had a lot to be grateful for and still do.
Even though my family gathering will only consist of two this year, I still planned a menu, purchased the groceries and I’m cooking up a storm. Why you may ask, because it still makes me happy. However, this year I am focusing on preparing less instead of more. Oh, I bought enough to do more, but I quickly realized that I simply do not have the room in my refrigerator for gratuitous amounts of leftovers. However, the ingredients will not go to waste, I’ll just repurpose them. I reduced the amount of dressing to half of what I was intending to make and I will do the same with the other side dishes. They will still be delicious and maybe in the process, I will learn better portion control which will lead to be better health, something I am still working on and will truly be grateful for.
I’m still baking too much for two people, but one simply does not halve a Martha Stewart pumpkin pie recipe. Since I purchased shortening (something I haven’t done in many years) to make my crust flakier; I might as well make a cranberry nut bread with the cranberries that I still have in the freezer for way too long, but should still produce a flavorful quick bread, one that still makes me think of my mom. When I was a kid, my mom used to take me to Marshall Field’s on Lake Street during the holidays. If I was well behaved, she would treat me to a visit to their bakery and I would have either a fudge drop brownie pastry or my own mini loaf of cranberry nut bread, decisions, decisions. Cranberry nut bread… how it takes me back. One mouthful of the sweet tangy combination of orange and cranberry makes me feel like she’s still here with me. I still miss her and always will, but somehow, I know, she is still with me.
I no longer have regular TV, but I’m willing to bet that if I close my eyes while standing in the living room tomorrow, I will still hear the marching bands play during a Thanksgiving parade and the cheers of football fans rooting for their favorite teams. That was an annual tradition that my dad and I had. In-between the preparing of the main meal, I would dole out snacks and appetizers to keep his tummy happy. I don’t recall for certain, but it may have been a holiday when my eldest made pretend cheese and crackers appetizers for Grandpa out of Play-Doh. I still remember him saying, “What the hell!” as he mistakenly bit into one. I was like, “Dad, didn’t you notice the bright blue color of the Play-Doh?”. It still makes me laugh thinking about it today.
Although my folks have transitioned, I will still feel the love and gratitude of being blessed to have enjoyed so many holiday meals and memories with them. I still long for a love of my own, but even if he never finds me, I still have so much love in my life. I am still blessed to wake up in a warm home that still brings me comfort and joy. I still have my health; I am still able to pay my bills and I still have a well-stocked pantry and frig. I still have family and friends that are family, that love me. Time and distance will never be a game changer in respect to the people who are still in my life.
And, in case there was any doubt, I can still bake a pie, maybe not as pretty as a Martha Stewart pie, but one that still brings a smile to my face and is still good enough to eat with a large dollop of whipped cream to hide any imperfections.
Happy Thanksgiving!
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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