Thanksgiving is over. Let that sink in for a minute. All that stress leading up to the family oriented holiday, all that anticipation of the turkey show-down, vanished. Those delicious eats that come around maybe once a year, gone. It’s over and it’s awful. The high has been a great ride and now it’s time for the crash. That holiday postpartum has set in and the blues is here.
But you’re thankful. You’re thankful for another year and for your family and your friends and memories. Sure, devouring the sweet potato casserole crowned with toasted marshmallows brings you instant gratification, but what the holiday means lasts longer than that.
This year has been difficult and there are more tangible things I am grateful for-- things that I can count on fingers and toes, things that are not so abstract and tenuous, maybe things that words can’t express. But I am counting my blessings, not marshmallows.