✨ Meet Me Monday — A Week of Thankfulness ✨
As we step into Thanksgiving week, I can’t help but feel that familiar mix of excitement, reflection, and that little hum of chaos that always seems to come with the holidays. Monday arrived faster than I expected, and suddenly we’re only days away from gathering around tables—big ones, small ones, simple ones, and beautifully mismatched ones—with the people who make our lives feel full.
This week feels like a gentle reminder to slow down, breathe a little deeper, and really look around at all the things we can be thankful for. Not just the picture-perfect moments, but the real ones—the messy, lived-in, everyday pieces of our stories that quietly shape who we are.
I’m thankful for the chance to come back home to people who love me… for the tiny moments with my kids that I know I’ll replay in my mind long after they’ve grown… for the friends who show up in small
but meaningful ways… for the memories we’ve made and the ones waiting just
around the corner. But as I prepare for Thanksgiving this year, my mind keeps wandering to the people who are struggling—the ones who are hurting, who feel unseen, or who don’t have an invitation to gather around anyone’s table. Part of me feels like the holiday can be a little lackluster at times, like it’s an intermission before the next wave of holiday chaos fully arrives. And yet, another part of me feels deeply, achingly homesick for a time in my life I can never go back to.
I miss the years when my grandparents were still here. When all my cousins, aunts, and uncles squeezed into the house. When we watched Annie in the living room every single year, and my grandpa would fall into the deepest food-coma sleep, snoring softly as we quietly switched the TV over to football. The second we got “the look,” the cousins and I would shuffle back to my grandma’s bedroom to finish watching Annie on the tiny TV that always had a bit of static.
I miss my mom and my grandma standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the kitchen, washing what felt like every plate, bowl, dish, and cup in existence—because no matter how much she wanted one, my grandma never did get a dishwasher. To this day, I still don’t know how holiday meals managed to use every single dish in the house.
It’s hard to accept that we haven’t all been together like that in over ten years. After grandparents pass, the family rarely stays the same. Some people try to hold everyone together… and others quietly drift away. And we’re left holding onto the memories that made those years feel magical.
Still, there is so much to be thankful for.
I’m thankful for the conversations that start over coffee and end in laughter; for the traditions we’ve carried with us and the new ones we’re slowly building; for the reminders that even in seasons of uncertainty, change, and healing, there is still so much good woven between the threads.
And like so many of us, I’m preparing to sit around a table this week—maybe not the perfect table, maybe not with every person I wish could be there—but with a heart full of gratitude for the ones who will be. There is something grounding about sharing a meal, passing dishes from one hand to another, swapping stories, reminiscing about the past year, and simply being together. These are the memories that stick. These are the moments that matter.
As the countdown to Thursday begins, I hope you take a moment (or a few) to reflect on the good things in your world. The big blessings, the tiny joys, the surprises you didn’t see coming, and the people who keep you steady. Let yourself feel the warmth of all of it.
Here’s to a week of gratitude, connection, and those simple, heart-filling moments that remind us what truly matters.
Happy Meet Me Monday, friends. 🤎🧡🍂
