Well I’m glad to say that we’ve all made it through “Thanksgiving”. What does that even mean? Thanksgiving. To me, it means knowing that your kids are alive and well, you’re still breathing. We all have our meanings for it.
In my situation, it’s a bit peculiar. My sister (name withheld), and I haven’t talked since last September. Not this past September, but the September a year ago. (13 months.) Now, that said, if you and a certain family member have an unpleasant kerfuffle, you shouldn’t host Thanksgiving at your house. Why is that? Well, because you would alienate said member. Completely. Everybody and their grandmas would be welcome but you. That would be…well, rude. But that’s the case and that’s what’s happened.
My sister is devoutly “right” all the time. (Note the sarcasm.) She is the president of the hate committee of her “private sanctuary”, and services start at 9:00 a.m. every Sunday, weekly- sharp. She has wrapped every family member up in her glorious existence for more than 5 years now. If you’re less than “chaotic and dramatic”, you don’t stand a chance. Sorry…I’m thinking that there are other survivors out there like me that feel this way.
So, this year, Josh and I have chosen to eat with homeless people than to be with her and the rest of the “family”. Yes, it’s true. We’ve chosen to spend our time with street people- drug addicts and alcoholics- degenerates and the mentally ill, than to be with them. We didn’t get “an invite”, but that’s alright- we were already gone.
On the bright side of things, Josh and I are getting along splendidly. We don’t focus on the “might be’s” of the future. We’re taking each day and applying it to our lives. We’ve pulled through some amazingly difficult times. We don’t know how much time we have together, but we’re grateful for every single day and we show it. I think that’s what’s most important- that our lives are vital and static.
And today, we have toilet paper.
Can you really ask for more than that?
Josh’s pic- guy walking in the park/SOOTC (straight out of the camera)
G3. Taken yesterday- Thanksgiving, on our mile walk at the park.
the day started out with me taking J to his appointment with his lawyer. We had 15 minutes to rush to our neighboring city to make his court appearance. The car was…dead. I’m guessing it was the battery. I urged J to run around the corner to a bar and see if he could find anyone with jumper cables. Luckily, he came back moments later with a guy from Firestone, who happened to have a battery pack and was able to start the car. We made it to court, and naturally, when we returned, the card was dead. Again. So, I called AAA and had somebody give us another jump.
“This won’t be the last time you see us,” I said to Eric, the AAA guy.
And it wasn’t.
Right around the corner, ole Betsie started coughing and sputtering; she barely made it over to the side of the road, convulsing at a mere 2 MPH, but- we made it to the curb. I sent J into the closest building to call – you guessed it- AAA. We waited for 45 minutes and were finally towed home.
So now we’re homebound for the next week until we can get another battery.
The bad news is that we’ll all have cabin fever, no doubt.
The good news is that we have toilet paper.
Unlike some people, I don’t count my wealth in coins or dollars. No, I count it in T.P.
When I have a heap of fresh, new rolls- I swear I feel rich.
Yes, my life really is so simple that I can be happy when I have toilet paper…
My toilet paper rose-
[Back in the day, the girls in jail loved ’em.]
I suppose I could say it’s been a crappy day, but no…it’s been a great day. Just…adventurous.
Things could always be worse.
I try to remember that.