Giving thanks for all that is really okay

Political apathy is new to me. I’m so over watching the Democratic party circle fire on itself, with so much recrimination and blame, and dear God please just give all the self-righteous commentary on Joe Biden pardoning his son Hunter a rest! I would have been mad if he hadn't pardoned him, instead leaving him to the mercy of the scruples-free cadre coming into power in a few weeks, most of them with crimes against others beyond anything Hunter ever did—oh, don't get me started. It's a hell of a thing to be so disenchanted, so apathetic about the whole political charade, yet with the clarity of understanding that I have no where else to go, no political entity I can turn to in the fight for the marginalized and jeopardized. I don't listen to the news any more, because what’s the point? Suffice it to say we're just fucked, so let's get on with living, shall we?

We had the usual Thanksgiving crowd, and we feasted and enjoyed ourselves as if the country was not in the process of burning itself down. Yes, I was a stressy mess on Thanksgiving morning, wrapping my arms tight around myself to hold the turbulence in, but later when everything came together, I remembered why I do this crazy chaotic dance every year. So many magical moments of loving connection. 

I’ll put up some photos from the week, but I won't try to organize them chronologically, lest I dissipate my energy to finish this post. Really, I just want to have the record of these pictures. And I want to remember that my husband, after the turkey came out the oven, tapped his children and said, "Over to you," and came and sat next to me in the living room, where we conversed with guests as our kids and nieces did all the re-warming and plating of dishes and carving of meats, ferrying everything to the table for the feast. I also want to remember that when twenty of us held hands in a huge circle to say grace, which always falls to my husband, he said the most beautiful things: that he has been thinking a lot about where we find ourselves this year, and that what occurs to him is that self care is critical now, a radical act, because if we care for ourselves, we will better be able to care for our families, our neighbors, our community, our world. Everyone was moved by his words, which I have so simplified here, forgive me, he said it so much better than I’ve managed, and his words restored each of us in some small measure. 

Later we mixed up margaritas and the night got even more riotous and entertaining. We laughed till our sides ached, and there were also some tears, such as when my niece lamented that she feared passing on her life traumas to her beautiful baby Harper, and when she realized she was crying my son came and put his arms around her, and the rest of us murmured it's okay, it's going to be okay, you'll do your best, it's all you can do, and she will likely have different traumas than the ones you'll be careful to keep away from her, because this is life, and she is loved, she will know she is loved, and she will be okay.

Here is an album of Thanksgiving week 2024, in New York City. 

My man, giving the peace sign, made most of the food—the turkey, the ham, the stuffing, the broccoli in garlic and oil, the roasted Brussel spouts, the three cheese mac and cheese—and I made the corn and cheese casserole and the sweet potato dish with crushed pineapple mixed in and a seared marshmallow topping.

One niece brought rice and peas, lamb, and green beans, another friend brought plantains, my son in law contributed his favorite collard greens, we opened a can of cranberry jelly and that was the whole feast. And it was yummy. 

Little Harper was everybody's favorite guest. Here she is with Auntie Kai-Kai, who has decided she wants to be called Bestie Kai. After a while, our precious baby girl decided there was just too much noise and revelry, too much attention swirling toward her, and she climbed into her daddy's lap and said, "Dada, Happa go to bed?" then climbed back down, walked through the room with her wrist on a swivel giving her adorable royal wave as she chirped, "Bah bye, bah bye," then ran down to the hall to the room where her cot was and waited at the door for Daddy to catch up. Love it when a child understands she has agency.

Harper's mommy's hair has grown wild and free and for Thanksgiving she made no attempt to tame it, and she was as beautiful as she always is, whether or not she's sporting lipstick and freedom hair.

The nieces and my daughter had decided that they'd prepare charcuterie boards to nosh on while waiting for dinner to be put out, since they know from past experience that they're always starving by the time the food is served.

Continuing our Thanksgiving week rundown in random order: The day before, Wednesday, some of us did a jigsaw puzzle while my son in law made a special floral arrangement for the table. 

This is Harper having a tantrum. She gently lowers herself to the floor where she writhes and whines in protest about whatever is not pleasing her. How I wish my son had had decorous tantrums like this! I could have assured myself that I was a much better mother than I felt at the time. Harper's parents have the right touch, though. They ask her how she is, try to discern what's going on, but they don't get overwrought, as I used to, even to the point and getting down on the floor with my tantrumming son and crying along with him.

Earlier in the week, on Tuesday (since we seem to be going in actual reverse order of events here) my son took his favorite auntie from Trinidad and the Dallas contingent to see his firehouse, after which they all decamped to Brooklyn to my daughter and her husband's new apartment. 

The firehouse visiting crew hung out in Brooklyn till late in the evening, keeping my daughter company as she baked the last of the pie orders she received for the season, including two for me and her dad, and one for her brother and his wife.

My daughter in law and Harper had a lovely moment in the kitchen playing with shopping bags. Another of Harper's aunts made an adorable video, which I will post below.

Over the course of the week, we watched the entire new season of The Great British Baking Show, as we are all unabashed fans of the soothing niceness of the people who are cast for that show.

A few of us, myself included, had to sneak in some actual work time while still following the bakers on TV. We also binge watched Lioness and Call the Midwife at different points in the week, catering to everyone's varied programming interests. On Friday we watched Gladiator in preparation for our Friday night mass movie date, which was Gladiator II at the red-leather reclining seat theater.

Harper has everyone, including her uncle, wrapped around her little finger. I believe she is fully aware of her power over us all.

My daughter snapped this photo at 2AM during the kitchen clean-up process. She later sent it to the family group chat with the caption "Successful Thanksgiving."

And finally, here are two videos, one in our kitchen, the other at my son’s firehouse, that made me smile: