Here is Thanksgiving, comfortingly the same as past Thanksgivings in most ways. David, Thom, and I celebrated at our usual places at the table, which was beautifully set . There is something wonderful about observing tradition just because it is tradition. The three of us have a history of many many Thanksgivings with other friends and family, separately observing the same holiday. Like everyone, we all come together and move apart like a huge square dance where partners change according to the caller but the dance itself stays the same. Behind me pile up the Thanksgivings that included my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, then my husband, my in-laws, my children.
I am glad to have experienced it all in so many manifestations. Another evolution has taken place and now my turkey and stuffing are made ready for me. All I have to do is show up at dinner time. This, too, is nothing more than a version of what has always been. Holidays are family-oriented, but at this point our families have spread out to include relatives we chose ourselves. It's one more permutation of the ritual. Our attachments form for reasons other than blood. They are as meaningful as well.
We are an adaptive lot.