This past Thanksgiving was... difficult.
Many of you have probably read about Aunt Vi's Passing, and how, as the second of three sisters, her death left Grandma quite alone. You also have been hearing for weeks about the litany of dishcloths I made with Aunt Vi's yarn to gift the family at Christmas.
Well, rather unexpectedly, Grandma joined Aunt Vi and Aunt Muriel this November. She had been living like she always had, and went into the hospital with an infection, and within forty-eight hours passed away in an unexplained coma.
We flew out to the funeral. We laughed and we cried. We mourned and we celebrated. We told outrageous stories, and we enjoyed family time that none of us had planned.
I had made her a turkey as a token of our love, and as a symbol that we would have loved to be with her this Thanksgiving. Instead, we put it on the center table and laughed over how she would have used it.
She sent us a card, postmarked the day she went to the hospital, and wished up well.
One night, while we were there, we all sat on the floor in her living room, and the Mister and I passed out boxes of dishcloths for the family. Grateful that I had finished early, we got to share a mini-Christmas together and bond.
I ended up taking the Turkey with me to the big Thanksgiving dinner that was already planned with the other side of the family. It was a token of her love.