Thanksgiving, This day in November of the year 1621, when the newly arrived Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Indians gathered at Plymouth to give thanks to the Almighty for their survival and a bountiful harvest.
This Thanksgiving I too give thanks for my survival, the culmination of a decade of hardship, loss, sickness and death. I Watched Planes, Trains and Automobiles for the first time in years, a long tradition abandoned after Tricia’s passing. To be honest I wasn’t sure I would ever want to celebrate the holiday again and I am stunned at the developments of this year.
The year began with an injury severe enough to prevent me from my usual duties unloading trucks at Walmart, another winter of wretched survival and the terrible isolation of life in a 1971 camper trailer.
This Thanksgiving finds me in a new home in a new town with a new career, surrounded by friends and family and a turkey baking in the oven. I know none of this would be possible without a miracle crafted in Heaven by the Almighty Himself and there are no words to describe how grateful I am.
I am well aware however, that there are many still living in quiet desperation who will not be celebrating in comfort this year and it is my fervent prayer that the Lord will sustain them through the hard times as he did me.
“I will give you beauty for ashes and turn your morning into dancing.”
Sitting here at Starbuck’s in Englewood passing the time until lunch and thinking about how far I’ve come since that fateful day last March. I am amazed at how many things had fallen into disrepair and neglect from the battle we were forced to fight against Tricia’s cancer. Almost three months have gone by and I am now starting to see some semblance of order taking shape. Both my vehicles are maintained and in working order again, most of the move and cleanup are behind me, physical strength returning to these old muscles and my stock photography work is proceeding full steam ahead with almost 500 images added this spring.
A new normal is emerging as I build a life for myself that doesn’t include space for a spouse. I have noticed a subtle change in the way I think of her as I go about my new daily routine. At first everything I did that reminded me of her just hurt but now I don’t think of her all the time while I am doing my new things. Now I actually like to take some time out and go somewhere or do something we used to do together just because it makes me feel close to her again. Close without the pain. Kind of a peaceful reconciliation I guess I would call it.
Kayaker competing in FIBark 2015
I have somehow found the strength to start doing some of the things that I have been meaning to do for many years, like photograph the Garden of the Gods 10M race and go to FIBark in Salida. I am starting to feel less like an unemployed nurse and more like a photographer again. And today, up here in Denver, I am just enjoying being in a place that I called home for over 30 years. Lunch with Dennis today will be at one of our old favorite places on Santa Fe, the Platte River Grille. Haven’t been there in probably 10 years and am looking forward to having a burger on the patio under the amazing blue Colorado sky on this beautiful summer day.