This year has been a lot different than last year. I don’t cry as often and to the eye I appear to have it all together. However as the year has progressed I have found myself consistently dead locked in ‘hot mess express.’ My mind is jello most days, occasionally some pineapples or oranges cruise by adding a little firmness to my brain. Half the time I don’t know where my keys or my phone is. Most days I can’t even remember what ‘after school’ responsibilities Wyatt has. I get home and sit on the couch unsure of how to progress with the evening, aside from fixing dinner; my mind is just blank. 

My walk with God is… well by definition I guess a stumbling walk. Some days I’m there, I get it. It makes perfect sense. The next day I don’t know how to make any of it fit. It’s like I’m trying to squeeze my size 10 beliefs into a coveted size 8. I keep trying, I stumble, and then I try again. 

In some ways I feel like I’m worse off than when Logan died, or even a year ago. I could process things. I could focus. I had so much more faith and understanding in God. And now, there are more clouds and gray area’s that sometimes I simply don’t know. I feel emotions that don’t make sense. Someone can ask me a simple question and my response is in no way warranted. 

In all that, I look at this picture and think, “but this..”

Last year for Thanksgiving we tried not to give much thought into it. We didn’t really even know what to do. This year, I knew it would just be the 4 of us. This year I knew I wanted to make a traditional Thanksgiving dinner like I’d had for so many years growing up. This year I wanted to make our own traditions. I wanted all the comforts of childhood and new alike. 

I am not a cook. I usually stick to a simple baked or crockpot dish on a regular basis. As you can see we had a full menu. And while everyone said we had way too much food for just us, my response is: It was 100% worth it. I stayed up until 2am prepping, got up at 6am this morning and finished cooking. And you know what, I did it all. Me, loss mom, brain of  of mush, made an entire Thanksgiving meal. 

I had so much anxiety yesterday about this meal. I wanted it to be perfect, I wanted to impress my family. I wanted them to be proud and enjoy the meal I made. To enjoy the new traditions we were setting out. I wanted Logan to be proud that we were honoring family time. I wanted it to tell like family time again. Instead of a day of sadness. I can’t express the emotions I feel, looking at that full table, with my boys. Eating the overwhelming amounts of food. Proud that I did it. Proud that my son tried everything I made simply because I made it. Proud because I know Logan would be happy we did it this way. Proud because even know there are only 3 plates on the table when there should be 4, we still are able to find the joy in the day.  Proud because instead of falling apart this year, we cried a few tears, accepted what is, and moved forward. 

This feast represents so much more than just food. It’s family. It’s the accomplishment of my mushy brain. For a few hours I was able to maintain clarity.