Final day. Aren't you glad?

One last random picture of someone I am so grateful for. Isn't she just cute?

Today I am thankful for pie. I love Thanksgiving because of all the pies. I don't make them that often, but I always end up doing dessert for Thanksgiving. This year, I am making 4 pumpkin, 2 Apple, and 2 of the all time fav, Chocolate toffee. I love that it is so easy to make them look fabulous. A few cookie cutters, and you look like a pastry chef to the stars. This brings up another Thanksgiving tradition. About 10 years ago, I made pies for Thansgiving dinner at my mom's house. We had a fabulous dinner, and afterward we played games. We were sitting at the table, and my brother Mike decided he was ready for pie. He brought out a piece of pumpkin pie that looked absolutely fabulous. He took the first bite, and paused...... took a second bite, then paused again. "What kind of pie is this?" "Pumpkin, stupid! What kind does it look like?" "Well, it just doesn't taste like it." was his reply. I'll show him. I got up to get a piece for myself, and sat down to take a bite. Hmmm, there's something different here. It tastes kinda like squash. Why would that be? Oh, no! "Dang! I forgot to put in the sugar!" I yelled out. We had a great laugh about that. We salvaged all 4 pies (can't say I'm not consistent) by putting some of my famous pumpkin dip on top like whipped cream, and they were wonderful. Now every year someone calls to remind me to put sugar in the pies. I don't think I will ever forget again. Well, maybe once or twice.

Next, I am thankful for pilgrims and Indians. My family has a personal history in Thanksgiving. My Father actually has a grandmother somewhere back on the line that is a wampanoag Indian. That is the tribe that owned Long Island and sold it to the pilgrims. Yes, Folks, he is related to Squanto. Beat that for family history at Thanksgiving. How lucky are we to actually have had ancestors in attendance on the first one?

Third in the list today is mailboxes. I am grateful that someone brings mail to my house. Even doctors don't come to your door anymore. When I was in junior high, we lived in Hyde Park. I loved this town. I made some really great friends that I still keep in touch with. I had a great time living there. One thing about this town was that we didn't have mailboxes at our house. You had to go to the tiny little post office to pick up your mail. It was about 4 or 5 blocks away, at least. (I never really counted, though.) I was a kid, so it wasn't so bad to walk. When I was 14, I went to my first youth conference and met a young man from Bountiful. His name was Kevin Livingston. We ended up writing for awhile, but I never told my parents about him. He would call me and tell me that he was sending a letter, so every day I would rush to the post office before my parents could get there. What would I do if they found his letter before I did? How humiliating. My Dad was a big believer in meeting the young men we knew, and I didn't want that. I would grab a friend and head to the post office in anticipation, and if my parents beat me to the punch, I would panic until I found the mail at home, all the while pretending to be completely calm and nonchalant. Yeah, right. I am sure that my parents knew something was up. 14 year olds can't hide anything. Since when did I volunteer to get the mail? After awhile, I was busted. It was actually the long distance phone calls that did it. I should have thought that out better. We just gradually stopped writing, and it's not like we had anything interesting to say. Just things like, "My friend fell down the stairs today." or, "My sister is teasing me, and won't leave me alone." I mean, really. What a waste of postage. These days they just text people. I had to use paper and pencils, and envelopes and stamps. Remember those? All those paper cuts and callouses......

How do you feel about cars? So often when I am driving, I can't help but think about the pioneers. What would they think about how easily we can get from place to place? If you had a chance to meet a pioneer that crossed the plains in today's modern world, do you think they would be frustrated that the Lord made them walk so far and suffer so much, losing so many lives in the process? Or would they just be amazed? What an incredible thing it is to have the ability to get from place to place in such a short time. I think they would be happy that we have been so blessed and feel so furtunate to have been a part of building such a great place for us to live, but I'll bet you in the back of their mind there would be a few stray thoughts of, "Hey, I feel cheated!"

The last thing I want to write about isn't such a comedic piece. I am grateful that I have a family. Doug and I didn't always have that. We went ten years without being parents, and even if you try to look on the bright side, having the desire to have a family gets you down. I know that we were lucky to have each other. It's just, there is no substitute for the blessing that you so desire, but are denied. We have some solace in the knowledge that it will come in the eternities, but in this earthly body, things can be hard to take. I cannot tell you how hard it was when Doug's father passed away, and all of Doug's siblings had their own children. Looking back, I know why we didn't now. But it was so hard to lose a family member you loved so much, and be denied children of your own. You are unable to continue the family that you care for so deeply, and you will never be able to pass on the stories and talents of the man that meant so much to you. Your family history is ending with you.

Holidays were days to be avoided as much as possible when things got emotional. I had a hard time sitting through Thanksgiving when everyone said they were thankful for their children. Halloween is hard to open the door when you know that none of the children on the other side belong to you. No costumes to make, no candy to sort at the end of the night. What is an easter egg hunt without children? You can color the eggs yourself, but where is the amazement of a child that thinks it is so cool that eggs can be different colors? On Christmas, where is the joy that comes from opening presents? No excitement over stockings hung by the chimney with care. So many times we just didn't want to get up on Christmas day. There were no little feet running to see what Santa had put under the tree. More than once, Doug and I would go to a party with adults in our ward. So many times women turn the subject to being pregnant and childbirth. I distinctly remember those times of fighting back the tears. I remember a couple of times looking over at Doug, and he would look at me, and we could read each other's thoughts. "Do you think we could escape and go home yet, without being rude?" Even men talk about their children, or sports. Doug insn't into sports, either.

Then a glorious thing happened. My sister called one day. That phone call changed our lives. Suddenly, there is a reason to get excited for Christmas morning. We love easter egg hunts even more now. Halloween is a thrill. Coming up with costumes and party ideas, having her help pick out the candy, and then showing us all her loot at the end of the night. What could I have done in heaven or earth to deserve such a gift? The amount of gratitude I have for her birth mother is overwhelming. Do you know how hard it is to pick up your phone and ask a woman to give you her child? How can you ask such a thing of her that you, yourself couldn't do? I will never pretend to understand how hard it was to have a little girl for almost 3 years, and then give her away. I can only understand my experiences on holidays. I can't imagine what it was for her. I just know that everyday when I get out of bed, I am acutely aware of how much I owe this woman. I will never be able to repay her, but will have overflowing gratitude for her. For eternity.