And so by the way I thank you

Gratitude and grief are strange but real bedfellows.

There are few among us who aren't naturally inclined to feel grateful for the blessings and fortunes in our lives.

But grief is the ultimate foil to gratitude.

Until you are in the depths of it, most of us are unable to fully realize what makes us thankful, joyful, grateful.

It's like the first time I tasted feta cheese in Greece, I realized what I had considered my whole life to be good feta, was really just a cheap stand-in for the real deal.

Once grief creeps in and takes something from you, some joy, some love, some of life's happiness you begin to realize, I began to realize I had been mostly living a cheap imitation of real joy, real happiness.

I was happy, I was loving and loved. But I wasn't really paying attention to what was ultimately bringing those feelings into my life. I thought I knew.

Trauma, grief, it strips you of any pretense. It shines a bright light on your reality. It makes you take stock quickly. at least it did me. With so little to give, so few moments of happiness it became so obvious where those real treasures, those real laughs and melted hearts were coming from.

I've made so many decisions in the last 34 months. Mostly guided by my gut, sometimes by my fear, sometimes by obligation or necessity. But some of the most meaningful choices were when I stopped, remembered where the joy comes from and made a conscious decision to head in that direction.

This is the third Thanksgiving without him.

I actually just had to stop writing for a few moments and collect myself. Typing that made it so real.

The first was in 2017 and it was devastating and also hopeful. I hosted in our home in what was the final week or so I would be living there. It was filled with friends and family.

I was getting ready to leave Seattle for good and begin my journey. There were kids. There was Karaoke. There were tears. But it had moments that are stored in the joy bank that I can access when I need to.

The second was in 2018. It was confusing. I was unsettled and unsure. I was with my parents which was a blessing. But otherwise everything about it felt wrong. When I look back at my post from that day, it is angry and sad and really reflected how I felt at the time. I regret I was unable to find the joy in spending that day with my parents. But I also don't make excuses or apologize for where I was emotionally.

The third, is today.

I am in Seattle. With friends who wrap me in a blanket of love each and every time we share a milestone or an anniversary. They are the ones who loved him best. They are the ones who miss him most. They are the ones who together we comfortably talk about him, crack jokes at his expense and then tear up that he isn't here to jab us back. They let me grieve the loss and feel gratitude at having had him at all. They get why these days are important to create new memories for all of us, and also why it is so damn hard that these new memories don't include him.

We won't be having your sweet potato pie today, but we will laugh and remember the year you put in salt instead of sugar.

Today is a Chamber of Commerce kind of a day in Seattle. The sun is out, it is crisp and cold and gorgeous. It's like he sent me this day to say that it is okay to be back in our place, and be happy. I don't have to be fearful of this place we loved. I also don't have to deny myself joy and happiness when I am here.

It's okay.

I will be okay.