Friday, November 14, 2014

Thanksgiving Can Never Be The Same

Sitting on the second floor deck, wrapped in my jacket, gloves, scarf and hat, I sipped my hot chocolate. The cloudy sky made the night seem exceptionally dark. There was a slight breeze and I inched closer to the gas heater.  The noise of the traffic below was muffled by my thoughts.  

I could see the lights of the island, miles away.  They seemed particularly bright tonight. Maybe it was the briskness from the chill in the air or because I was focusing intently on that city across the water.  The city where my daughter lived.  

A warmth crawled up my spine and my heart was overcome with thanksgiving.  Although hours away, those lights appeared within reach.  I could stretch forth my arm and touch them, if I closed one eye.  

Rochelle is a remarkable cook.  I knew she would be preparing the turkey dinner for our family tomorrow.  Twenty-eight years ago, our family Thanksgiving dinners took on a whole new meaning to the celebration.  Twenty-eight years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, Rochelle was born. This mom (and now Grand-mom) was told she would NEVER, EVER have a baby. This little baby was not supposed to live.  I have it in writing, signed by a specialist which stated:  There is not one chance, in one million, that this couple will ever have a child.  Read more on this story here.

Yet, here I sat - looking into my little girl's home, across the ocean, preparing Thanksgiving dinner.  I Never....Ever.....gave up hope.  I Never....Ever....stopped trying until I found the answer. For which we are all THANKFUL.

Tomorrow I will sit at her table, hold her hand and thank God for the gift of this child.  The child who was never supposed to happen.  

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