I had a good day today. It was a nice day that I was lucky enough to spend with really good, really dear friends.
My own family is 4 hours away in another state, so getting to them over Thanksgiving isnt usually possible, due to the short time off I have from work. So, for the past few years, it has become almost a new tradition for me to spend this day with my old college friends, and their family, in their home. While I was there, I was happy. I had a nice time. We laughed, we had great food and conversation, and we took the time to remember the ones who have died and honor them with words and a toast. It was a really lovely holiday.
And then I got back to my apartment.
Somehow, my computer erased the post I’d been working on this week. I am NOT grateful for that. Grrrrr.
But what I’d planned to say will probably not come as a surprise. It’s Thanksgiving again and it’s just not an easy time for us widowed folk. No matter what else lovely we find in our lives in the strange after-world, it is painful to remember all the happy T-days we spent with our missing loved one; to notice the void at the table.
This time of year puts an enormous amount of pressure on people in general, doesn’t it?
Add in the hugeness of grief and it can be overwhelming in the extreme.