Seven years ago I was heading out to my parents for Thanksgiving when a friend called to ask me to meet for drinks. I was already caught in the traffic flowing out of the city so I asked for a rain check. She agreed and picked country dancing that Saturday night.
Thus started the best adventure of my life.
The Thanksgivings that have followed have varied. Our first one in Germany was my first snowy holiday. Our first in Turkey was a chilly night on the flight line where we shared fried chicken and things to be thankful for in a tight huddle. Our first in California one of my dearest friends came to visit.
This year I’m alone, or near enough. B is working, like so many first responders. He’ll spend most of the day sleeping between shifts. And yet, I would rather a somewhat lonely holiday with him, than any other kind with anyone else. Besides, I have two puppies to keep me company.
Still, all for a phone call and missed plans. Who would have thought I would end up here, certainly not me.