I forgive myself for idealizations of holidays past
For quick crying between wishes
For wiping tears on my pumpkin apron
For missing the harvest moon 
For yelling at myself for falling short
For taking too many or not enough pictures
For missing the sweetness of giggly formality
For not savoring the warmth of deep red wine
For demanding you write on the thankful chalkboard tree
For unrealistic expectations and not asking for help
For not seeing paper-thin leaves on the carpet as beautiful
For forgetting the windowsill wishbone
For making cranberry sauce when you just want canned
For not snuggling under warm blankets
For playing martyr music to myself

I am grateful it’s never too late to learn hard lessons
For pretty glass pumpkins bought 20 years ago
For delicious pies from Apple Hill
For crochet leaf coasters and sparkling cider refills
For round crackers and salty meat
For the mystic splendor of deer on the ridge
For marching bands and behemoth balloons
For bad jokes and big laughter
For pink cheeks and crackling firelight
For making you write on the thankful chalkboard tree
For the perfect turkey placemats for four
For forgiveness and second chances
For squirrel salt & pepper shakers
For snuggles and holding hands
For midnight sandwiches and full bellies
For every moment we’ve had together

*Thank you for supporting my blog this year. Your kindness keeps me going. May your Thanksgiving, if you celebrate, be worry-free and wonderful.