Wherein I share a sibling sandwich and grandchildren that aren't mine
I didn't get to spend time with my grandsons or their parents on Thanksgiving. The miles are just too difficult (and expensive) for either of us to traverse at this time.
Making up a smidgen for not getting to see the parts of my heart that live in the desert was getting to share a warm and cozy (and filling) day at my place with many of my mountain-based family members, immediate and extended. That included two of my six siblings — my oldest (Jeff) and my youngest (Susan).
Forget the turkey and taters, this was the sibling sandwich of the day:
I don't believe we have ever had a photo taken of just the three of us together. Ever.
That youngest sister of mine first became a grandmother nearly a year ago then again in the past five or so months. Yet Thanksgiving was her first opportunity to experience holding both of her grandchildren (from different children of hers) in her arms at the same time. I had the privilege of hosting, witnessing and documenting my sister's grand grandma moment:
As my family grows — and grows apart — we're all redefining our gatherings, holiday and otherwise. This past Thanksgiving seemed, for some indescribable reason, to be the first holiday marking that change across the board, the dawning of a new era for not only my immediate family but my extended family as well. My children, my siblings, my parents.
Growth is good. Change is good. Thanksgiving was good. Though I wasn't too sure how it all might go, considering those recent winds of change blowing us about, it turned out to be a heartwarming holiday with yet another faction of my family with whom I spend not nearly enough time.
Today's question:
Today I launch my annual month of holiday-themed daily questions with...
What holiday movie would you most like to be magically transported into?