The Child and I are putting up Christmas decorations while The Swedelock (TS) makes our traditional Thanksgiving pizza. The bread maker broke mid-cycle earlier today. That’s a lesson in “Really? For pizza dough you need technology?” We’ve now listened to a recording of “A Visit From St. Nicholas” eleventy times. That’s a lesson in, well, parenting.
Of all the lessons I take from this year, the one I’m most grateful for is: how wonderful life can be when you open your heart. Two years ago we moved to a city with exactly zero connections. Separately, TS and I had years and years of taking leaps like this. But this one was particularly cumbersome and difficult. We had gotten so comfortable in our little life together. It was the longest either of us had lived in any one place.
After our move to The Mitten State, quietly, I held everyone accountable for not being our DC friends. Or my childhood friends. Or my college friends. You get the idea.
Don’t take offense, new friends. It wasn’t you, it was me.
I know I wasn’t completely responsible for opening my own heart. Several fellow Michiganders pounded their way in.
Opening v. pounding aside, we find ourselves grateful for our new life, our new friends, and for the possibility of hating others in the future for not being them.
Happy Thanksgiving, Michigan and beyond!