Mr. CL did the shopping and left to his own devices, bought a non-organic premium steroid-injected nearly 30-lb monster turkey. A freak of turkey nature. Turkeyzilla. The thing took five hours to cook (and probably a small army to take down.) The man LOVES turkey. And leftovers.
While I was cooking early this morning, my son came in to tell me that — today, on Thanksgiving — he was offered a job. (He’s a senior in college.) His dream job doing data analytics.
Me: “They wrote you today? On Thanksgiving?!”
Him: “They’re in India.”
Apparently, the job starts out with 9 months of training in India, then he’s off to the U.S.
Wow! I’m super proud of him. And I had a moment, between subduing the monster turkey and cleaning the home to my mother’s standards to reflect that the kid and I have come a long way.
He’s a good kid. It all turned out. I think he will launch. He’s still prone to occasional calamity (he blew his tire out on the drive here, and was stranded on the turnpike yesterday, case in point). But he’s okay. He’s responsible and employable and cleans up nicely in a pressed shirt. He’s kind to his grandparents and thoughtful, and brought me a scented candle.
I’m feeling very grateful today. To anyone still in the trenches — there were years (many years), I did all the parenting alone. The vomiting illnesses. The book reports. The solo awkward parent-teacher conferences. There were years I got sued (pro se) by a crazy man who defaulted on support. Who didn’t show. Who reneged on things. Who broke my kid’s heart. And then nonchalantly would show back up in his life. Who argued in court that my child was stupid. That I couldn’t be trusted to educate him. He spent money (that he wasn’t paying for support) on lawyers (who he later fired).
There was a lot of crazy I had to sane parent through. And I wasn’t always the sanest parent myself. It was a lot. But I showed up and I really, really tried. I’ve been remarried a decade now, and Mr. CL is my son’s true second parent. My kid knows it, and I know it. And half the “Wow! He’s launched!” pride goes to him today too. And to my parents. And to my extended family, who raised him too.
I’m rambling. The point is — miracles. Slow-motion miracles. One day you’ll be on the other side. You won’t live in a trench anymore. Some days are even rewarding and wonderful. And there’s a feast. And the people who love you are sitting at your table.
Stay the course.
I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday. We can all go around the table and say what we’re grateful for.
See you back here Monday.