||[Nov. 26th, 2015|10:52 pm]
Spent the holiday with Kat and Eric, plus good friends of theirs and those friends' parents. The day started quietly with us arriving early in the afternoon so that we could visit and play games. Between the craziness of our schedule and the craziness of theirs, we haven't seen much of them in the last few months. It was nice to have time.|
Dinner was, of course, vastly too much food for 13 people. There was the usual chaos of getting everyone to the table, getting all the plates filled, people passing things in two different directions, laughter, confusion.
And finally that moment when it all falls silent as people tuck in. Everything was delicious, and we lingered at table for a long time, talking, telling stories, laughing.
I felt her absence through it all.
It's the second Thanksgiving without Rebecca. Her absence isn't an awkward silence--when things happened that reminded us of things she had done, we recounted those stories and chuckled to remember her. But to see the kiddie table with two little boys and one little girl, instead of two and two, it still hurts.
The grief doesn't buckle my knees, most of the time. I've realized that you don't get over it, you just learn to live with it. But sitting out on the front porch for a few minutes I was struck by it all again. "My god," I thought. "That actually happened. I remember her sitting in this chair, and the next day she died." It still shocks me, sometimes.
I'm grateful that I knew her. I'm grateful for the memories of that spunky, strong-willed, thuggish little spark. Even as I continue to mourn, I'm grateful.