Thanksgiving morning: A little more winter than fall, as this heavy-hearted dream was described to me.
“Margaret” was walking to the front door of her in-laws’ house. Did I say in-laws? Former in-laws. She stopped to wipe the frost away from a window to look in.
The dining room was familiar — warmly lit, table inviting. Yet there sat “the other woman,” in the chair Margaret had exclusively graced for 29 years. Margaret’s fingers felt cold.
Today, three years later, she is about to complete her degree. She’s scoring 95% on her exams, and wrote this to me last Friday.
My past is part of me and there are few things I would change. Sadly, with ‘him’ in my life, I would not have had these opportunities.
This Thursday, her fingers are still wet from that dimming Thanksgiving vision — more of a residual moisture than frost. And that’s fine.
Off-Site Reference
“Adjustments for the Next Thanksgiving” / November 23, 2004 / Divorce Balance (via Internet Archive, accessed August 7, 2024)