I woke up early the day before thanksgiving, as I always do. Teens sleeping, husband at gym, pets wanting to play and pee and do their day to day morning routine. I read a few chapters in my book, made a pot of tea, wrote my morning pages and focused on gratitude. It was so easy to have gratitude. It flowed like poetry from my mind to my pen, like a spell being woven on a foggy New England November morning and, it was. I drank my tea and sat in quite contemplation, some would say meditation but for me, just my normal focus on breath and presence. I got up and peeled potatos and baked a pie, finished mashed potatoes prep, roasted my frozen brussel sprouts and garden carrots- prepping for tomoorrow when all the will need is a quick saute and served hot. I laughed as I recalled my early Thanksgiving meals, being 20 something, with something to prove- I was a good cook, worthy of adulting, as I saw it respect and admiration. I cleaned furiously, stressing out and crying bitterly in the pantry when no one was looking. Sad that my family wasn’t coming to my meals and that with my new husbands family I felt like a stranger even though I very much so was not. Everything had to be perfect, house clean, centerpieces stunning. My rage building and numbed by bottles of red wine. I would stress and bake and cook and never sit down and then the meal would be done in 10 minutes and I would mount up for cleaning the dished piled to the ceiling. I never rested, never relaxed adrenaline got my though and wine kept me even tempered but I would crash and cry and wake up feeling like a train had hit me. Years later, so much has changed. At work yesterday the younger adults were stressing about cleaning and centerpieces and family gatherings. Trying to paint guest rooms and make everything feel & look like perfection. I reminded them something my Mother in law said to me years ago- one of her genius moments that cemented my undying love for her and her true place as “MOM” in my heart: “Paige”, she said, “Who care if the laundry is done or the bathroom floor mopped? We know you, we love you. All we want it spend time with you and the kids. All that other stuff doesn’t matter”. And, in an instant I felt free. Reminded that I am family, and we are family and all that matters is the love around the table. It could be pancakes or turkey. No one cared all that much about the image I was feeling forced to create. So, I relaxed and that year let a little of the cleaning slide and focused on food. I focused on being present and enjoying the family I had created, that loved me. And every year my wisdom and relaxation has grown, to now Thanksgiving is easy and a simple joy. The meal, the pies, are all now second nature to me, I have cooked it now some 20+ years. My childhood family still lurks in the corner of my head, as a part of me still longs for the balance of my family and his. But, now I see we created our own family and that is worth a million blessings. My Mom has passed away and my family might be far away but I still weave parts of my childhood Thanksgiving into my own- my children’s will weave some of this into their feasts years from now. My Mom’s pies, My sisters Spinach Balls, My Brothers love for board games, and mashed potatoes piled high. These little memories weave into the fabric of the life I have created and it is magic. It is how my childhood lives on, my love for my family, and his and ours. And, I realize that is part of the beauty of gratitude – its love you pass down and share. Its all a blessing to be together ( and we never know how many more family meals are left on the calendar ). So take my Mother in laws wisdom, Mimi as we lovingly call her, and trust that you are enough, and don’t stress so much: Enjoy the moment. Let the laundry sit if that means you can spend time and ejoy the people who gather with you tomorrow. And, love, those you have around the table and trust you are enough jus the way you are. Perfectly loved. A part of me missed my childhood thanksgiving meals- yelling and gorging and complaining about this and that – because it had its own magic in it. I hope my kids will see our Thanksgivings like that, messy and magical. And, Please above all, tomorrow, Love every minute of a day set aside for feasting and gratitude – because you never know how much they matter until those moments are past. And it took me years of wisdom to finally have gratitude for it- don’t let it take you that long. Blessings Be, my friends and Happy Thanksgiving 2026!