What makes you happy?
I was writing down what I was thankful for and it occurred to me that some of the things that I am grateful for are not what you'd think.
For many years, I was glad to be the one working in the kitchen, preparing the turkey and dressing with all the trimmings. It made me feel close to my mother and I have to admit that I was a little proud to have learned the skills that allowed me to feed my family good food. I didn't feel stuck; when and if the kids started to drop in, I knew they'd come in and help out one way or the other. But still, it was work; it took a special effort. Sometimes, I find that work is therapeutic for what ails 'ya.
I don't have the large house these days; most of my children live elsewhere--as in another hemisphere. I spend a lot of time online, playing word games and doing genealogy. This is my second Thanksgiving without my husband. The turkey is smaller and I don't know if I will have all the trimmings. But I know one thing: I couldn't cook in my small kitchen until the floor was clean.
So, I left my recliner and swept and mopped as well as I could with a bad back. Afterwards, I felt happy. I was happy that I could do something to help myself and if it was done somewhat imperfectly, it gives me something to work on, tomorrow.
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