Of Family and Giving Thanks

This morning, I remember.
I remember my many Novembers, these holiday times, autumns and winters spent with Family far and wide.

I remember my first holidays away from the place I was born, with Family whose love lifted my head, made my belly roar with laughter and opened my heart and eyes to different ways of living, profound ways of loving, and the ever-present Abundance that has nothing to do with how much you have.

I remember crisp, cold mornings in the desert.  I remember the morning star and water blessings, the warmth of coals and so many heart-felt prayers, I remember Family of Spirit and cactus and feather and bone- whose love taught me about our capacity to surrender, to love beyond and through the pain we sometimes cause each other, to heal.

I remember winters of wandering, of many seasons spent on the road- meeting Family everywhere and anywhere.  I remember hand-crafted, patchwork Orphan Holidaze-wherein gathered all the ones near, that were far from their blood and place of birth- shared sadness turned shenanigans and laughter, bottomless cups of sweet coffee, plates overflowing with the fish and loaf-stone soup feasts that would fill bellies and hearts.  Family whose love taught me that Family- is what we cultivate and create, and everyone and anyone we love that way.

I give thanks for all those I am blessed to know and to love.  For all my Family.