Contentment is my guiding light this holiday season

I’m setting the table for two this Thanksgiving, just myself and Jeff.

And we are fine with that.

Our youngest son will be hosting dinner with his new bride’s family in their home out East. Our middle son will head out to the western suburbs to spend the day with his bride’s family. Their almost one-year-old twins will no doubt be the stars of that gathering. At last report, our oldest son and fiancé who live out West are spending the day like us, just the two of them. Their plans are fluid and that may change by T-day.

Jeff and I have been invited to all of their festivities, but we chose to stay home. Torn between three different choices, we are content with just each other. That may seem selfish to some, but it is how we want to celebrate this year. I suspect one or two people might be jealous of our decision to be antisocial at this most social of times.

Gluttony vs. contentment

Holiday advertisements and movies always show the holidays as stuffed with friends and relatives, all wafting through enormous houses with drinks in hand, admiring the perfect decorations and joining in sing-alongs. Mountains of food appear, all impeccably prepared and timed to arrive on the table at the same time. An impossible achievement if you ask me.

Thanksgiving in the past has been something of a salute to gluttony. But now I will refashion it as a celebration of contentment. I have a lot going well in my life and wanting more seems greedy.

Is this enlightenment or simply a facet of growing old?

I am not sure, but I have embraced “enough is as good as a feast” as my mantra in the months ahead.

On Thanksgiving, Jeff and I will spend the day in comfy clothes, watching the Detroit parade and enjoying (for once!) Lions football. We have other traditions to honor that day. At noon, we will listen to Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant.” We will laugh along with the turkey drop episode from WKRP in Cincinnati and finish off the day by watching “Home for the Holidays,” one of my all-time favorite dysfunctional family movies, second only to “The Lion in Winter” which we watch at Christmas time.

It will be a full day. Enough is as good as a feast.

Speaking of feasts, our dinner will be different than most. Jeff and I ventured to Eastern Market in Detroit this morning to buy corned beef for our Thanksgiving meal. I cook a mean brisket. This has been our meal of choice for many years. Our children don’t really like turkey. Only one likes potatoes, nobody likes cranberries, and I am the only one in the family who likes stuffing. Why go through all that trouble to hear sighs of disappointment at the table? With corned beef, their eyes would all light up when the fragrant platter was brought to the table.

Plus I get to see Jeff’s face light up again the next day when we have corned beef hash.

Enough is as good as a feast.

Thankful despite the losses

In some ways, giving thanks will be bittersweet this year. We have had some knocks in life in the past few years. Several people close to us have died and their presence is missed. I thought of my friends Nancy and Carrie during my trip to Detroit this morning. The three of us spent many wonderful days downtown, braving the crowds at Eastern Market and wolfing down tacos and burritos for breakfast at Evie’s in Mexicantown.

Jeff is still getting used to the loss of his parents, as am I.

This will be my first Thanksgiving as a surviving sister. That is a new feeling.

Perhaps our desire to retreat into our own private little world lets us forget how many people we have lost in the past few years. A family get-together today highlights who’s missing.

With contentment in mind, I will be grateful for the time I had with all the people I have lost instead of crying over the time we missed.

Enough is as good as a feast.

My house is modest, but I have a hot tub, one of life’s great luxuries. My car is 12 years old but doesn’t need a repair (this week). My clothes are not designer brands, but they are warm and comfortable.

Enough is as good as a feast.

Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers! I hope you have the holiday you have always wished for, whether it is over the top like in the movies or a little more subdued, like mine.