For Thanksgiving, we made the long, lonely drive to Salt Lake. The I-80 through Northern Nevada is a pretty desolate journey. The few towns that dot the highway have tag lines that fail to convince you of their importance. My personal favorite is "Battle Mountain: Halfway to Everywhere!"
Despite the drive, we were happy to come and see our family members. Rachel convinced several of us to do a Turkey Trot Thanksgiving morning. When we woke up the day of the race, none of us were particularly excited about it, especially since it was freezing outside.
As we huddled beneath the heat lamps, we were having major deja vu about our frigid Ragnar just weeks before.
After dinner, we packed up some leftovers and drove over to Meredith's house. The two new babies were still on oxygen and heart rate monitors at the time, so she was basically housebound. Cal discovered Carson's tricycle, which he immediately started calling "my bike."
This one's my favorite:
Carson was happy to join the fun in his little car:
Somehow we managed a family picture, which is miraculous considering even the wee babes were in it!
We had a lot to be thankful for this year, but one incident in particular made this Thanksgiving even more of a reminder: the day before the holiday, my grandma had an incident with her heart. I'm still not sure if it was a minor heart attack, or if a part of the heart muscle was paralyzed, but she spent Thanksgiving Eve in a hospital bed in the ER. It was frightening for all of us, and we were so glad and grateful to have her back with us for our Thanksgiving dinner.
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| Taking the cousins on the carousel during a shopping break |
I love Thanksgiving. It is a wonderful time to remember how blessed we are. I'm grateful for my liberties in this country, for my religion, for my family, for our health and safety, and for the myriad of opportunities I have ever day. We are very, very blessed.
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