The Beginning of Thanks

Growing up, every year my family would travel to Des Moines, Iowa to spend Thanksgiving with my mother's side of the family. My mother is the youngest of 10 children. I am the youngest of 36 first cousins. We would rarely see each other throughout the year, but come Thanksgiving, we were thick as thieves and just as mischievous.

When I was small, our brood would take to the streets surrounding Mercede Drive and throw snowballs at oncoming cars. My biggest, most responsible cousin always scooped me up when the heat came and we had to make a run for it. Fast forward a few years and you'd see my brother and cousins rearranging those lawn ornament deer into risque positions.  It was over Thanksgiving break that I learned that you always tell a new bartender it's your birthday for a free drink. The first time I sang (so bad it was good) karaoke was with my cousin.

Now, on the rare occasion some of us get together, we rock each other's babies. We reminisce with a wink and a nod when our children run after one another.  We may not know the day to day detail of each others lives, but we share the same chin, the same laugh, the same love of good story telling.

This year, I am not waiting for stuffing and turkey to count my blessings. Today I am thankful that My Peoples recently came to visit me. I am thankful for the history we share and the comfort of just seeing their faces. Listening to them talk about about their children and grandchildren and being wrapped up in their laughter. Today I am thankful for family...and tea parties.