We had a very happy first married Thanksgiving. It saw lots of family, lots of food, and lots of open road while trying to split our time between the McMahone and Jenkins clans.
There is a comfy feeling that comes with both the familiarity and certainty we experience when we travel to our parents’ homes. I can count on the fact that Mamaw’s dressing will taste the same [read: incredible], that my mom will be baking up something with bricks of cream cheese, that Audrey will say something hilariously adult-like. I can be sure that Ash [my sister-twin-friend] and I will find a way to soak up some rare face-time to dwell in these exciting and changing times. I know we’ll be Cowboy fans for a day [unless they’re playing the Saints] in support of our cousins who hail from Dallas. And I’ll never doubt that we’ll talk and laugh until we’re asleep, leaving us draped over various couches and chairs.
Thanksgiving Day brought a familiar morning of parade-watching. Really we just wait for the Rockettes the entire time. We had cousin reunions and a need to turn Mamaw’s dining room table diagonally to fit the entire family around it. It was a house-busting blessing. And later, after we ate and ate again and ate when we weren’t the faintest bit hungry, Moll and I suited up for a little Black Friday shopping. I’d say it was our most successful year yet. Target employees, you are our heroes! Except that one guy that yelled at my sister to not run while she was on her sprint to the bathroom [not to a flat screen TV]. Chill, dude. Pregnant lady has got to GO!
Possibly more than ever, I was overwhelmed with the care and provision that come from our parents. It’s not that I thought this would stop when we became old married folk or anything. Maybe I, having entered this adult world, understand their years of sacrifice in a sounder way. I mean, we are four for four when it comes to moms and dads who are incredibly selfless and thoughtful. We never doubt that they want our best, that they are excited about and immersed in our lives, or that they would do absolutely anything for us. I look forward to, hopefully, following their lead and making this a trait of generations to come when we have some little tikes and grand-tikes one day. I count it a privilege to know what this is like, and I hope to make a habit of gifting this to others who don’t have it intertwined in their own family tree. Our parents’ love is staggering. And I hope they know that the Lord is using them in this way. Because no one loves this well on their own.
And that’s what I learned on my Thanksgiving vacation.
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