Happy Thanksgiving

I didn't grow up in a perfect family, immediate or extended. We we and those that remain, are flawed characters. When I look back at my childhood, there are things that stand out, like a beacon that sends the message, "you figured it out, anyway."

Thanksgivings, for my family were mostly spent with my Nanny & Pop Pop. They lived in an apartment, and there was a folding table in the closet in the living room. It came out on Thanksgiving, and Nanny cooked a dinner for whomever was coming to eat.

It wasn't everyone, not really ever, it was cousins, great aunts & uncles, sometimes from across the miles, but the cast of characters changed each year. The thing that didn't change was the feeling. Walking in to see my Nanny in the smallest kitchen with the food being prepared...all of it. Someone might bring a pie, but the dinner...all of it, was cooked in that tiny kitchen, and laid out strategically on that small kitchen table waiting for it's turn on a burner, or in the oven, after "Tom Turkey" vacated.

I vividly recall my final Thanksgiving in that apartment. My Pop Pop at the table, and the myriad arrangement of family there too.

Most of them are gone now, either passed away, or passed through my life for one reason or another.

That is my Thanksgiving...my childhood.

When David and I got married, we decided that Thanksgiving would be our thing. We shared our first one with my brother-in-law Tom, and a burned Turkey.

We have gotten much better at it over the years.

Last week, after one of my shopping trips to prepare for the day, I was overwhelmed by the feeling of disbelief that this Thanksgiving, I'm the grandmother. I am hoping that Piper & Evy will call me something other than "nanny" as I called mine,but that doesn't change the role. I hope nothing more than to be the memory that is at the corner of their consciousness when they remember their childhoods, and that they think of at least a few, maybe many Thanksgivings at my table, and David & I waiting for the arrival of those first born grandchildren and any of their cousins that might come along, and their parents, that spent every childhood Thanksgiving Eve, making pies, and helping prepare the stuffing, until they grew up, got jobs that kept them at work or moved away and had families of their own. I want to be a constant. A soft place to fall, for all of my kids, their loves, their kids, and their kids friends. I have arrived at a plot point that you find in any happily ever after story. I am Lila Quartermaine (forgive the General Hospital shout out) in real life. The idea has weight. It has responsibility, and I will learn as I continue to grow in the role. I am Grateful this Thanksgiving for the opportunity to stay on the path down which this beautiful life has led me. I thankfully acknowledge those who went before, and shaped me into the person that is up at 4:30 getting my thoughts together, before the kids start to stir, looking for Pumpkin Bread that I'm about to bake. I am grateful for each person in my life, past, present and future that will, or have woven the fabric of family that I cherish for connection, even if some are just memories. Happy Thanksgiving. xxoo C

Labor Day Weekend

So if you know me, you know how I spent my childhood teenage, and many of my adult years.
I spent them watching the Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy Telethon.  I have NO shame.
I would spend the night with my cousins and we would attempt to stay awake all night.  I had a mad crush on Brett Hudson, (Kate Hudson's defunct uncle) and he appeared in the seventies.  There were always appearances by the superstars, Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr. and of course, Jerry himself.  There was a surprise when Dean Martin surprised Jerry after many years of being estranged, and Maureen McGovern would always sing, and she is a really good singer.
It was a tradition.
When Zachary was young, I turned him on, and we would hang all night...in a pile on the floor, with Telethon Snacks.  I didn't care one bit if it was the snacks or the Telethon that we were both looking forward to.
Regan & Lucas caught on...they didn't really ever hang, but Lucas would try.  Rosey really never got a chance.
I miss the Telethon.  I miss that super fun memory that was so silly.  I always pledged. I always counted my blessings.
Today I wanted to spend a minute remembering that time, that "thing" that was "my thing".
I remember one particular Labor Day weekend when Zachary had moved to NY for Acting School.
He flew in to meet us in Charleston and we rented a condo at the Wild Dunes.  The condo was really good, and it had a great screened in room with a big t.v. Zachary indulged me and we piled up cushions and pillows and we hung out on that porch.  We didn't stay awake, we probably didn't try.
I don't think that was the year Elton John opened with "I'm Still Standing" (poor choice, considering...well everything) but it was the last time I remember being with Zachary in the Telethon Bubble we would create.
MDA had a falling out with Jerry Lewis, so that isn't a thing anymore.
I miss it.
I miss a lot of things.
I miss being able to stay up all night with people I love, cuddled up in sleeping bags, eating snacks and waiting for the acts to get better.
It is okay to miss things, it means they were special.

Hello from the other side of the hill!

April 2015 brought me to the top of the hill, and this April has started my journey down the other side.  If you're a James Taylor fan, you know what I'm talking about.  The lyric..."nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill, but since we're on our way down, we might as well enjoy the ride" has never rung more true than it does in this moment.
My old Blog was about the day to day, and the little things that go on in the life of a wife, mother, and friend who is dabbling in all the things that go along with having children of a certain age, and trying to remain somewhat relevant.  "shesreallydoingthis" was born because I was getting ready to play Fanny Brice on stage in Funny Girl, and even I couldn't believe my own audacity.
WELL...That was a very long time ago.  I've been a lot of other things besides a funny girl since then, and I have the scars to show for it, along with the smile lines.

This "written trip down the hill" will be a bit of a memoir.  I think it's time to create a record of all of the stories that I tell so often that I say to the listener "Tell me if I'm repeating myself" at least once a day.
I tell my kids the things I want them to know, so they have a frame of reference for why I do the things I do.  I ask the question "Do you remember" a lot more these days, maybe so I won't forget.

I want to remember. I want to share. I want to rip the band aid off of some of the things that have scabbed over, in the hopes of helping the people in my life avoid some of the mistakes I've made, and also encourage them to jump in and make some of the same mistakes because they were TOTALLY worth it.  I want to tell stories.  I want to get to know the people I love all over again through my own lens of memory.

I want to live with my eye on what is important, people, places and time shared.
In the end, it will all be about people, places and time shared.  It will also be about lyrics to songs that inspire us to take a moment and realize that it really is a "lovely ride".

xo
C