In true Latin and Catholic (which are one and the same as far as I'm concerned) tradition, many major holidays are saints' feast days. Thanksgiving is no different, as the pronunciation of the word "thanksgiving" in Spanish sounds like "san" or saint, "givin". Therefore we have created a new saint thanks to this national holiday.
For the past several years, ever since my sister and her husband moved to Atlanta, we have been traveling there (here) for the holiday. With the exception of last year when we went to Puerto Rico to visit our cousins instead. The Atlantans went as well and it was a trip worthy of quite a number of blog entries as the number of fiascos was quite numerous for such a short holiday.
Doug, Paola, and I drove up yesterday, a trip my husband had hoped would be shorter without the other two children (who flew up with their grandparents) but that actually turned out to be longer because of Paola's frequent and time consuming eating schedule. So the flat Floridian landscape ended up being flatter and longer than we both remembered it. We also purchased an audio book with the high hopes that we could enrich our minds while passing the time, but instead the monotonous voice coming from the speakers tended to induce sleep for whoever was driving. Still, listening to the memoir (Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer) made me long to write for myself and I remembered regretfully that I have neglected my writing.
And with the blink of an eye, the holidays--holy days--have arrived. A magical time in which everything is decorated and the family that we ignore and forget about during the busy grind of quotidian life comes together to live a little more. May the "saint"of giving grant us the gift of time this season.