And so I awake to the aftermath of Thanksgiving. Or maybe I should say afterglow. It was a good day in all, a good Thanksgiving. Family and friends graced my home and table with mutual affability and love. The food was good; the weather was gorgeous. My youngest son and his friend expressed a selfless concern for those less fortunate than us and set out to do something about it. Each of us was conscious of how much we have to be thankful for – we even wrote it down on little styrofoam leaves and glued them to a little styrofoam tree. And the things that hurt and disappoint were respectfully kept at bay because, after all, it was Thanksgiving – the day we celebrate and acknowledge gratitude for all that blesses our lives, the things for which we are thankful. And rightly so.

But what of this day after Thanksgiving when the special plates are returned to their cupboards (or the paper plates are bagged on the curb) and the styrofoam tree sits silent on the extended table which has yet to be dismantled? The joyful chatter of yesterday is receding, and the thanks are not so verbal. Fatigue wraps me lightly like a soft blanket, and routine settles back in – and so do the companions who were not invited to the table yesterday. Hurt. Uncertainty. Loss. Struggle. A son who rebuffs every attempt at reconciliation. A friend who lies in a hospital bed with a diseased heart in critical need of repair. Parents who now grace my life only through their memory. Pain that gains increasing ground each day. I could be wrong, but I don’t think I wrote these down on my styrofoam leaf….

So what ABOUT the day after – and all the days before – Thanksgiving, Pam? What if I stopped viewing Thanksgiving as a holiday and made it a way of life? Yes, yes, I know. I am to be thankful in all things. I am to live my life with a grateful heart. I am to recognize God’s involvement in working the issues of my life for the good. But if I’m honest, that usually feels more like grit-my-teeth-and-bear-it rather than outright thankfulness. You know, the kind I write on a leaf one day a year. What if I offered thanks for the storyline of my life with the same intention and focus every day as I do on the one day? No seriously. What if I did? Maybe, just maybe, the gratefulness and joy that I embraced yesterday would become the heartbeat of my life.

Eucharisteo~