Happy Thanksgiving and Shutterfly Keeps Stopping My Heart

Happy Thanksgiving! 

I didn't mean to leave my sad Sydney post hanging here for the last three weeks. A sweet online friend wrote to me, worried because I hadn't posted since we lost Syd. We're doing okay — we miss her terribly, of course, but life has also just been incredibly busy. As I told my friend, we've been consumed with the following and more: 

• I had the privilege of being on the training team again (I first got the opportunity in mid-2020) for new coaches at Brave Writer. We had an intense couple of weeks in early November, and now we've got a dynamic bunch of new coaches coming on board. I continue to be blown away by my colleagues at Brave Writer. 

• We're finally getting some answers to some health questions/medical conditions for both my mother and one of my daughters. A fair number of appointments and meetings have been part of this month. 

• I finished the final edits for my newest book! They arrived while I was deep into training so it was a busy few days. Whew. The book should be coming out after the first of the year. I don't have all the news yet, but here's a hint: you know I love the liturgical year. 

I'm feeling grateful for so many things right now, not the least of which is that my son-in-law recovered well and quickly this month from a very mild case of Covid and my daughter, whom we worry about a bit more due to her autoimmune disease, did not contract it from him. So grateful for vaccines! 

And I'm grateful for an overabundance of digital photos, even when they take you back and break your heart just a bit. You know when Shutterfly sends those emails? The ones that say, "Remember these memories from 15 years ago?" Then you brace yourself because you know that fifteen years ago your daughters were just wee things who looked something like this: 

When she was actually this age, in 2006, I never posted pictures of Ramona, or any of the girls, on my blog. Her little Flintstone feet were the only thing that made the blog in those days: 

So, thanks, Shutterfly, for breaking my heart about the fact that there are no more tiny people at my house. But thanks, too, for reminding me that I love the women my little girls have become. 

I'm so grateful for so much. 

Happy Thanksgiving. Hug your people. 

Poetry Friday: Wild Gratitude, by Edward Hirsch

I am wildly grateful for Poetry Friday and for the marvelous people it has brought and continues to bring into my life.

Our fearless hostess, Tanita Davis (along with the Poetry Sisters), is focusing on gratitude. Tanita says:

Gratitude is the theme the Poetry Sisters chose this month for our original poems. It’s kind of a low-key challenge for those of us who are in the teeth of exams and end-of-year work emergencies, or who, like me, are preparing for the slog of holiday concerts and staying upright and healthy until the final notes are sung. At this point, we’re grateful for small things, like a full night’s sleep, an unexpected packet of tissues in a cardigan pocket, or the umbrella behind the driver’s seat, and not in the trunk.

One of my dearest friends is a singer, too (can't wait for her concert next week) so the "just staying upright and healthy" bit struck a chord, making me think of her. Then I thought of how grateful I am for her friendship. How grateful I am for so many people who keep me upright and sane.

Tanita's post, her original poem this week, and the Carl Denis poem she shared all fueled my own December gratitude, which I'm trying to focus on more deliberately this year. It can be a beautiful, hard time of year for me. (Every year is different. Why must every year be different? Because change is the only constant.) I love Advent, adore all the preparations for Christmas, but things are never quite as quiet and peaceful as I dream they will be. Just as I always have a skewed vision of summer and its feel but eventually realize that "our days unfold with a lovely balance of planning and coasting," I am open to the unexpectedness of Advent this year, to the deeper ponderings that accompany the whimsy of chocolate coins on St. Nicholas morn. As the short, dark days can fuel the anxiety I battle off and on (hello, light therapy lamps!), I am also grateful for the reminder that darkness will always be swept away by light with every new day.

Last summer, after reading my post about my off-kilter expectations for a perfect summer, my friend the singer said, "Do you think we're just longing for Heaven?"

Yes. And one of the best ways to ponder the thing we long for is to say, over and over again, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."



Wild Gratitude
by Edward Hirsch

Tonight when I knelt down next to our cat, Zooey,
And put my fingers into her clean cat’s mouth,
And rubbed her swollen belly that will never know kittens,
And watched her wriggle onto her side, pawing the air,
And listened to her solemn little squeals of delight,
I was thinking about the poet, Christopher Smart,
Who wanted to kneel down and pray without ceasing
In every one of the splintered London streets,

(Read the poem in its gorgeous entirety here, at Edward Hirsch's website.)

~~~~~~~~~~

Find the whole round-up today at Tanita's place.

Grateful

What, you were expecting a turkey? 

Happy Thanksgiving!

So grateful for so much.

May your day be filled with every good thing (including coffee.)

I'm at Faith and Family Live Today

saying thank you for all the things I get to do. 

Bits and Pieces of Our Post-Thanksgiving Days

The turkey was eaten, the oyster dressing relished (by Atticus, anyway ... urgh), the bonfire blazed.

Atticus rediscovered cigars and gave them up again (all in the same night), the Black Friday deals were had, the children slept in, the Super Sister-in-Law did all the driving (thanks, Super Sister-in-Law!)

I ate three kinds of pie, read Suzanne Collins' Catching Fire, did oodles of laundry, decked out the house for Advent (in true No-Panic fashion), told Ramona -- roughly seventeen times -- that the chocolate Advent calendar starts on December 1st.

We played Scattergories, and I laughed out loud at Ramona's answer to Things You Save Up to Buy That Start with the Letter F: "Faux Fur Lined Coats."  (And, yes, she spelled faux correctly.)   I laughed again when Betsy's "H" answer to Kitchen Utensils was, "Hey! Who took my spatula?!"  and yet again at Anne-with-an-e's response to Things (that begin with F) That You Keep Hidden: "Feral Squirrels."

And we went to Mass and thanked God for Him, and our family, Sabbath rest and work to get up for on Monday.

How was your Thanksgiving?

Poetry Friday: November, by John Updike

Today, I am thankful for a multitude of blessings, including our books. Children's books, picture books, books of poetry, books of all kinds ... And I'm thankful for this poem from one of our books: A Child's Calendar, by John Updike.



November 
 by John Updike

The stripped and shapely
  Maple grieves
The ghosts of her
  Departed leaves.

The ground is hard,
  As hard as stone.
The year is old,
   The birds are flown.

And yet the world,
  Nevertheless,
Displays a certain
   Loveliness---


Read the rest of the poem here.

The Poetry Friday roundup is at Becky's Book Reviews.

"Thanks" seems like such a feeble word

(a quick rerun from the first autumn -- 2005 -- in which I was blogging. It's all still true....) 

I have so much to be thankful for, and so few words to express it.

Thanks.

I'm grateful.

Thank You, God.

Thanks a lot.

No, I mean it. Thanks a LOT.

Really, I can't thank You enough.

I really appreciate it.

I credit You with everything.

Did I mention that I'm grateful?

Thank You. All praise, glory and honor are Yours, Almighty Father. So ... um, thank You.

See what I mean?

It sounds so feeble, so piddly, so inadequate.

What I really want to say is that I can't believe that the God of the universe cares that my soul was once headed straight for hell and now I am, at least, looking in the right direction. How does He manage not only to care, but to make me believe that He cares? To feel His love? To know that He is with me, faithful to me, every moment of every day, even when I am not faithful to Him? How does He do that? And how do I thank Him?

I can't. I can only pray, and gaze upon Him, and cling to Him in all that I do.

And, in my feeble ways, tell Him "thank you" as often as possible.


A prayer of St. Bonaventure

Pierce,
O most sweet Lord Jesus,
my inmost soul with the
most joyous and healthful wound of Thy love,
and with true, calm and most holy apostolic charity,
that my soul may ever languish and melt
with entire love and longing for Thee,
may yearn for Thee and for thy courts, may long to be
dissolved and to be with Thee.
Grant that my soul may hunger after Thee,
the Bread of Angels, the refreshment of holy souls,
our daily and supersubstantial bread,
having all sweetness and savor and every delightful taste.

May my heart ever hunger after and feed upon Thee,
Whom the angels desire to look upon, and may
my inmost soul be filled with the sweetness of Thy savor;
may it ever thirst for Thee, the fountain of life,
the fountain of widsom and knowledge,
the fountain of eternal light, the torrent of pleasure,
the fulness of the house of God; may it ever
compass Thee, seek Thee, find Thee, run to Thee,
come up to Thee, meditate on Thee, speak of Thee,
and do all for the praise and glory of Thy name, with
umility and discretion, with love and delight, with ease
and affection, with perseverence to the end; and be Thou
alone ever my hope, my entire confidence, my riches,
my delight, my pleasure, my joy, my rest and tranquility,
my peace, my sweetness, my food, my refreshment,
my refuge, my help, my wisdom, my portion,
my possession, my treasure; in Whom may my mind
and my heartbe ever fixed and firm
and rooted immovably.

Amen.

Quotes for a Tuesday

A few quotes on thankfulness, with a nod to Faith, who first linked to a page on gratitude at which I found these quotes:

The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!

~~ Henry Ward Beecher


Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things.

~~ Horace


We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

~~ Thornton Wilder

Poetry Friday: Evening

As I write this, it is Thursday night and a delicious, cool breeze is blowing in through the open window as I sit on the couch. We've had lovely, near-crisp nights for August in Nebraska. I hear cidadas buzzing, punctuated by a cricket's chirp, and there are some katydids out there, too, I think -- they're like a little jazz trio. Peaceful and calming. It's as if they're saying, again and again, "All's right with the world, all's right, all's right. All's right with the world, it's cool, it's cool."

There's certainly plenty that's not right with the world, but it's hard to think on it on a night like tonight, when all's right, all's right.

I keep this poem in my kitchen. It's a reminder to me, on evenings like this, and on evenings that aren't one bit like this, that it's all gift. Every second. Every cicada. Every lovely, cool thing.

Evening

by G.K. Chesterton

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?

Poetry Friday will be hosted this week at A Wrung Sponge.

Thankful for ...

... my husband's life.

A small car, an enormous deer, and 50 miles per hour don't mix well.

We're sorry for the deer, and sad about the crumpled front end of the car, but very, very, very grateful.

Updated to clarify, because some of you asked: No, Atticus wasn't injured. The car had to be towed, but Atticus didn't, and we're so grateful that "what could have been" is not what was.

A Forest of Gratitude: Thanksgiving Trees

Many thanks to all who contributed pictures of their Thanksgiving Trees for this post. I began to assemble links, but then couldn't resist the idea of seeing all the trees on one page.





Jennifer and the gang at As Cozy as Spring made this beautiful tree, using felt instead of construction paper. I love the felt idea, as well as the shape of these leaves.







Another fun and creative idea from Katherine, at A Living Education, was to use the family's hands for the leaves on her tree.





Dawn, of By Sun and Candlelight, has a tree that is happily sprawling over an entire window.





Minnesota Mom's kids each made their own gorgeous trees.






Donna's beautiful tree has a great array of colors and leaves of many different shapes.





K, at Cirque de Moi, started her tree close to Thanksgiving, but plans to begin November 1st next year. It appears loaded with blessings anyway, K!





And Jennifer, from Family in Feast and Feria got the extended family in on the project. Her mother-in-law loves the tree and its "falling blessings" so much that she wants to keep it up year-round.






Meredith has had her own unique take on a Thanksgiving Tree for years, and I love the way she uses real branches and lovely, delicate, watercolor leaves.







One more to add! Tracy and her family made this terrific tree. Thanks, Tracy!









And, here's the final picture of our tree, filled with blessings, from November, and from every day of our lives:



Thanks again, to all of you for participating. It was a delight to see the individuality, the creativity, and the joy that went into your trees. As I said at this time last year, "thanks" seems like a feeble word for all that God gives us, but sometimes it's all we've got.

And often, it's just right.

Thank you.

More thankfulness

Thanks to Faith at Dumb Ox Academy: a link to a page full of quotes on gratitude. Here are a few I love:

The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!

~~ Henry Ward Beecher

Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things.

~~ Horace

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

~~ Thornton Wilder

Thankful Thursday

This week's Thankful Thursday post is a group effort. I'm going to share a list from our Thanksgiving Tree, along with a little background.

When Anne and Betsy were younger, I did a Thanksgiving Tree every November. We drew and colored the tree on poster board, cut it out, and made leaves from construction paper. Then, each night at dinner, we all named something for which we were thankful. By Thanksgiving Day, we had made a beautiful autumn tree, adorned with our many blessings.

Somewhere along the sleep-deprived way (when Ramona was a baby ... then when she was one, then two, then three ... people don't always believe me, but it's true that this child literally did not sleep through the night for years) I stopped doing it. But, this year, I'm getting more sleep and the tradition has been revived.

Today, the girls and I put our tree together and started naming our blessings. Here are ten of them, from the things we came up with, in no particular order (other than putting Jesus first, naturally):

1. Jesus
2. Homeschooling
3. Having a brain
4. Having air in my body so I can breathe
5. Books
6. My sisters
7. Chocolate
8. Electricity
9. Church and praying
10. Frosting

Here's a full picture of the Thanksgiving Tree:



And, for more Thankful Thursday posts, be sure to visit Diane at The Journey of a Mother's Heart.

And, cheater that I am, I'm going to add #11, as I did last week: I'm thankful for Diane, for taking on Thankful Thursday this week, and for the many blog readers who come to visit here and are so kind to me. You are all an enormous blessing in my life.

Ten things I am thankful for this week

1. A car with 222,000 miles on it.

2. A visit today from my friend Linda.

3. The lake yesterday with friends, J. and M. -- watching our children climbing slides, building sandcastles, and riding the merry-go-round as we talk and encourage one another.

4. My children. All of them. The three here on earth, the many in heaven. The experience of carrying each and every one of them, whatever the result. Though it is hard to thank God for a loss when one is in the midst of the unbearable pain, I know that He has led and taught me through all of my children ... through their lives, their deaths, and the resurrections He granted me after each miscarriage.

5. Fr. Anthony in the confessional on Saturday. What a wonderful priest.

6. A note from Fr. Joe.

7. For blogs.

8. Thinking, "I could really stand to lose a few pounds." It means I have more than enough to eat, that I never go to bed hungry and that I have the means to share with others.

9. Ramona in the morning, Betsy's enormous heart, Anne's compassion.

10. For St. Atticus.

11. [Yes, I know this is cheating] I'm thankful to Lisa for doing a thankfulness carnival.