Homebodies - Brutally honest…

Details

Published on Saturday, October 15, 2016

By Rita Friesen

Neepawa Banner

We have just celebrated Thanksgiving weekend. As is my custom, I attended Sunday morning worship. Honestly, I didn’t really want to attend. It is, at times, difficult to be thankful. Tales of family gatherings, groaning tables, warm fuzzies, lovely facts, have not applied to me these last two years.

The words of reflection reminded me to find something to be thankful for, even in the face of deep personal loss. I knew that, but it was helpful to be reminded. It was helpful that others joining me in morning worship were reminded that not every Thanksgiving is easy for everyone.

October 10, 1974, the Friday of the Thanksgiving weekend, Ed and I exchanged marriage vows in the presence of our four children and four close friends. Forty years later, we were faced with saying our final good-byes, as Ed prepared to leave his mortal body. October 12, 2014, Sunday of the Thanksgiving weekend, he passed quietly and peacefully from this world. I believe that Ed choose to linger the last 30 hours so that our anniversary could be a kind and gentle memory. Thanksgiving weekend will never be the same. 

And I am thankful. Thankful for the 40 years we shared, the family we raised, the joy with the arrival of grandchildren and great grands. Thankful for the vacations we shared, the satisfaction of farming together, the music in life. Thankful for friends that include me in holiday meals, for friends that allow me to wallow for a while, and then coax me back to the surface.

This is my story. Each one of us has a story. For some families, Christmas, or New Year’s, or birthdays are the most difficult. For some folks, every day is a struggle. I struggle to be strong for my children, brave in the face of their pain but open to sharing the hurts. I struggle to pass down the family memories, for it is painful and often tearful when we share deep memories. There are days when even my red boots are not enough courage to face a crowd. There are days I welcome a soft drizzle for it masks the uninvited tears trickling down my cheeks. A sound, a scent, a glimpse of a red plaid shirt, a vintage vehicle, all pressure points on my journey. 

I am thankful. I am thankful that this year I will be strong enough to put up a tree for Christmas. Christmas was Ed’s holiday – every moment – the sights, the sounds and the foods. I already know that I will not put up the manger scene, nor the Victorian choir, but there will be a tree and lights. I am thankful for progress. You know the old saying – ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day’? Whenever anyone used that on Ed, he would smile and reply – well, I wasn’t there, was I? So, he is not here, and my Rome will not be built in a day.

I am thankful for the gentle reminder by my faith leader to find something for which to be thankful.