The contrasts between Thanksgiving Day and two days later are amazing. The same food which made us squeal in delight now sits there brooding in the refrigerator, as unattractive as a blind date. The din created by 27 guests has been replaced by a deafening quiet that makes Carole and me long for our grandchildren to bring their mayhem back to our den floor.
Thanksgiving is perhaps the best holiday of all. None of the artificial, materialistic frenzy seen during the Christmas gift-giving madness. The focus really is on giving thanks, even for those who don't know our Savior. The ritual of gathering at noon with family, eating at one o'clock, visiting until the Cowboy game, and then segregating the sexes during game...it's a pattern that seems worthy of repeating every year.
It's almost a given that there is a new addition to our gathering every Thanksgiving. This year, the fresh face belonged to our angelic fourth grandchild, Macie. Next year the newbie will be Audrey, our fifth g'child, due around three weeks from now. We are beside ourselves in anticipation. Poor Brooke just wants her to hurry up and get here.
The shoulder hurts all the time, but I know it's normal and that it will continue to hurt as I do more with it every day. Can't start rehab until Dec. 3rd and that's a bit frustrating. Seemed everyone who greeted me on Thanksgiving slapped me right on the socket as a greeting, sending me into a coyote-howling mode.
Now, the focus is on getting all our family and friends back home safely. And then we'll get into the official Audrey countdown.