scribblechic

Our holidays are quiet affairs. Over the years they have evolved from days woven with elaborate details labored over with love to casual commitments and predictable menus. Excessive ornamentation fell away gifting us a more serene simplicity while complicated company created exaggerated exercises in patience.

Today, on the eve of Thanksgiving, I am looking inward and counting my blessings to balance the anxiety of the day. Gathering my children near while wishing for my mother’s cheer. Forgiving those whose figures cast shadows on my joy so that I do not darken my children’s memories with discontent.

I am inviting the quiet of gratitude to sit among old memories, stilling my spirit as we construct new memories with love.

Tagged: Musings