a manifestation of abundance

Non-traditional Thanksgiving is not new for the boys. Their father has worked holidays since before they were born. They understand that it's okay to celebrate in different ways, on different days. That it's okay to participate joyfully in a world of sorrows.

As a teenager, Thanksgiving became a day of travel for our family, Broadway the burgeoning convention. We consumed gas station snacks on the way to see Miss Saigon, and another year had Pizza Hut right before Rent. New York City's bustling sidewalks and twinkling lights turned out to be way better than turkey and stuffing.

Many years, volunteering at the food pantry allows us to devote a tiny part of ourselves to the well being of others. This year, staying home lets us contribute even more. We've been highlighting, for months, the duty we have to do (or not do) things for the good of the community. While lives become numbers on an ascending chart, it is not a hard decision to stay home.

While ideas of normalcy carve longing into the guts of so many, fortune is not an impossible conclusion to draw. We are capable of grabbing hold of gratitude even when it's slippery, especially when it feels just out of reach. We have ripe avocados and new books to read, holiday candles and soft pants and pumpkin pie. We have each other.

This year allows us to reopen tradition, liberated from sleep-walking through what we've always done, a chance to live a little differently. We put up the Christmas tree early and plan to eat corn dogs for lunch. This year may feel unique and unprecedented and unnerving, but the boys help us risk delight.