Thanksgiving

 Thanksgiving always makes me stop and look around at the things I usually rush past.

Not the perfect table. Not the outfits. Not the picture-perfect moments.

It’s the simple things that hit me the hardest now.

My kids have food in their bellies.
They have a warm home to grow up in.
They have a place where they are safe and loved and seen.
They have a roof over their heads and people who would move mountains for them.

That’s the kind of gratitude that lives deep in my chest.
The kind that makes me hold them a little closer.
The kind that reminds me that even on the hard days, we are so lucky.

Today I’m thankful for full bellies, tiny laughs, messy kitchens, and a home that holds all of us.

That’s what really matters.