A day on the US calendar, declared a day of thanks, gives me the day off from work and a good reason to use it to spend with family.
I love my family, so a day when all of us – or many of us – can be together, to visit, to share, to eat (it really does always revolve around the food, yes it does)… those are good days. Those are days that I am extremely thankful for.
This year though, I’m taking the day off. No big to-do, no organized meal, because truly this is not a prescribed Holy Day for me. Not a day commanded by Almighty. It’s a culturally inherited day, one which I have the ability to enjoy if I so choose, but one on which I would also gladly work if needed.
Hubby countered me the other day when I was describing a conversation I’d had with a co-worker about the days I “observe”. In his mind, I observe Thanksgiving. Simply because we often host family in our home on this National Day with all of the fixings.
Easily misunderstood. It nearly does seem like our family tradition.
Thing is, it’s not.
Family tradition would mean that I would feel somewhat bereft in not following it – amiss, and off-kilter, nearly guilty.
I’m extremely thankful that today will be a day I am not required to be at my workplace and a day that I can simply do whatever I feel like doing.
Turkey cooking? Yes, in fact. Hubby brought one home from work and I have the day off, so I’ll pop that bird in the oven sometime today.
But at my own pace, because I’m not on a scheduled tradition clock today.