One week from now is Thanksgiving day. I have a turkey in my freezer and boxed stuffing (yes, I know) in my cabinet. I have the makings of pumpkin pie and two days off next week to enjoy every bit of it.
I also? Have memories.
On Thanksgiving day in 1997, my first husband told me he didn't love me anymore. That he was divorcing me as soon as I gave birth. That he didn't want to be a part of my life anymore, ever.
I don't think about it very often. My first husband got his wish and he is not a part of my life or my children's lives. I don't miss him and they never knew him, so it's really a non-issue.
It was Thanksgiving day, though. I thought my life was over.
I was twenty-two years old.
So many people I love are hurting right now. So many people I care about have had tragic losses. Are in pain. In need. Feeling completely helpless and hopeless.
I wish I had the right words to tell them.
Because it's not over yet.
That sometimes when you pray to God to fix it, he's fixing it. Maybe you think he's not, but he is. Maybe not in the way you think it should be fixed, but he's fixing it in the way it's supposed to be fixed. That maybe God is planning something great for you. Something you never expected. Something that will change your entire life.
Maybe a boy in North Carolina is having his heart broken by the wrong girl, because you are the right girl.
Maybe someone throws a puppy dog out the window because she's supposed to come live in your house and make you happy every day of your life.
Maybe you can't have a baby because you're supposed to have a book instead.
You just never know.
I don't have any answers. God knows if I did my thighs wouldn't look like this, my mother-in-law wouldn't be ignoring the card I sent her, and I would magically be president of the Known Universe. There's nothing special about me except maybe for the fact that I am ridiculously grateful for every stupid part of myself and everyone I come in contact with. Even the doucheholes, because they make me grateful I'm not like them.
I can't tell you much. But I can tell you one thing. I thought it was all over when I was twenty-two.
I'm thirty-three. And it's all just beginning.