I miss the Thanksgiving that used to be. The turkey and the sides and pies and beans and potatoes. You, my dear, are the only person I've ever known that put Macaroni & cheese on the Thanksgiving table.
Such an everyday food!
But, of course, one should be thankful for the everyday, shouldn't one?
The last few years, this day has been especially our own. A day spent watching TV in different rooms, etc. In some ways, our togetherness was slightly apart. Just -- not too far.
This day we are so apart.
This couple in the Swiffer commercials is how I saw us. Not because we were so focused on cleaning -- you were more into that than I have ever been or ever will be. But because the way those two fuss and work together and care about one another -- I saw us that way. Already that way, and growing more so in the time we would have left.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xw9Bp2AszNw
I wonder if I ever told you that.
I don't think I did, because you would have said something about wishing someone around here would clean like that, and I'd have replied with it being about the character and the love, and as a result I think I would have remembered if I ever had said it.
But then again, we spent so much time in this room with the TV on, it's possible that I could have said, "There we are" when the commercial came on.
Or you could have said it.
Because I think you felt the same way, if you ever thought about it at all.
Maybe you thought of it wistfully, because you knew you'd never get that old and doubted we'd ever have that chance.
I hope so, and I hope that, at least once, one or the other of us did make that smart aleck remark about that being us.
There are many things to be thankful for this year, and they are things that have your touch all over them. The most important is the roof over our head. If you hadn't been a conscientious tenant, we'd never have been allowed to stay to keep the house occupied through winter.
Yes, you.
Your money paid the rent.
You took care of things, from your cocoon in the recliner in one room of the house.
But I don't want to be thankful without you.
I want you to be thankful with -- even though you would be the doom and gloom and see all the shadows and because of you, I would be more aware of the good side of things.
We complemented one another that way.
We'll get this first sad holiday over (Halloween doesn't count), and I'll get back to Thanksliving.
But I will NOT be thankful for your absence.
Never ever.
Breathe deep and breathe easy, or the equivalent, wherever you are. I'm glad you aren't sick and suffering.
Thankful, even.
Such an everyday food!
But, of course, one should be thankful for the everyday, shouldn't one?
The last few years, this day has been especially our own. A day spent watching TV in different rooms, etc. In some ways, our togetherness was slightly apart. Just -- not too far.
This day we are so apart.
This couple in the Swiffer commercials is how I saw us. Not because we were so focused on cleaning -- you were more into that than I have ever been or ever will be. But because the way those two fuss and work together and care about one another -- I saw us that way. Already that way, and growing more so in the time we would have left.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xw9Bp2AszNw
I wonder if I ever told you that.
I don't think I did, because you would have said something about wishing someone around here would clean like that, and I'd have replied with it being about the character and the love, and as a result I think I would have remembered if I ever had said it.
But then again, we spent so much time in this room with the TV on, it's possible that I could have said, "There we are" when the commercial came on.
Or you could have said it.
Because I think you felt the same way, if you ever thought about it at all.
Maybe you thought of it wistfully, because you knew you'd never get that old and doubted we'd ever have that chance.
I hope so, and I hope that, at least once, one or the other of us did make that smart aleck remark about that being us.
There are many things to be thankful for this year, and they are things that have your touch all over them. The most important is the roof over our head. If you hadn't been a conscientious tenant, we'd never have been allowed to stay to keep the house occupied through winter.
Yes, you.
Your money paid the rent.
You took care of things, from your cocoon in the recliner in one room of the house.
But I don't want to be thankful without you.
I want you to be thankful with -- even though you would be the doom and gloom and see all the shadows and because of you, I would be more aware of the good side of things.
We complemented one another that way.
We'll get this first sad holiday over (Halloween doesn't count), and I'll get back to Thanksliving.
But I will NOT be thankful for your absence.
Never ever.
Breathe deep and breathe easy, or the equivalent, wherever you are. I'm glad you aren't sick and suffering.
Thankful, even.
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