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Grateful
By Stephanie Kemp







It is the Monday after Thanksgiving and the world has me (and likely every other human being lucky enough to have an informed thought or remaining breath) fried.

To a crisp.

Exhausted.
Terrified.
Paralyzed.
Furious.
Heartbroken.
Confused.

Grateful.

…………..

Grateful?

Really, Grateful?  You’re trying to sneak in there, too?

Have you not been paying attention to the latest news about the Omicron variant?

To this and any/all of the other news thrown at us from every turn, through every medium, at every moment, via every conversation we engage in or even catch snippets of by other in(or un-in)formed thinkers?  

The same thinkers who gobble up the News even as the News waits for the News, but continues to report on the News while they wait for it?

We are being turned into hamsters on a wheel at the edge of a cliff, spinning furiously, going nowhere, while wondering if the cliff is real, praying it’s not, and/or trying to figure out if just might be part of our new “Metaverse.”  

(You know about the “Metaverse,” right, Grateful?)

Oh! And we’re being groomed to hate each other!

Given this newsworthy (whatever that means) shit show, what makes you think you have a place at my post Thanksgiving Monday Morning Table?

Is it because I got to get on an airplane and fly to Chicago and look at an art school with my daughter and walk around and window shop and breathe in delicious fresh air and eat corn beef hash at a diner my dad would have loved and show her my old neighborhoods and laugh over ramen we weren’t supposed to eat because it was so close to dinner at the new French restaurant my brother in law managed to get a reservation at as he tried to accommodate my unrealistic out of towner holiday request?

Is it because I finally got to meet in person my sanity saving writer friends over blueberry pancakes and too much coffee at that restaurant from Ordinary People on the most beautiful fall day I can remember (I remember them all) with the added bonus of accidentally driving up Sheridan Road and passing my Ravinia memories on the way?

Because I got to hug another friend on Michigan Avenue with her mom and daughter for thirty seconds while double parked in front of Zara AND she didn’t have Covid after all?

Is it because I got to be with my niece and her soon to be husband after they asked me to marry them (I can’t wait to do this) and because I love her parents and his parents and because my nephews were also in town and it was the first time in forever that I have seen them outside of that sad weekend where we finally buried my mom a year and a half after she died because the original variant of this mother fucking virus had just shut down our whole recognizable world?

Is it because my brother in law and I realized we are both primarily purple (enough) people and no longer have to dance around the whole (hole) blue and red family ruining political nightmare/s?

Or maybe you think you are invited in because after this amazing few days with my daughter in Chicago I got to fly (again safely!) home to a husband I love and another daughter who braved the extraction of 4 wisdom teeth while I was gone and made me realize yet again that she is already (at 13) a life force to be reckoned with. Maybe you know that this both makes my soul sing and my eyes cry and that you are largely responsible for all of it?

Maybe you know how much I love this tiny cabin in the woods from where I type and where we got to spend Thanksgiving and breathe more fresh air and read books and light fires and watch Heavenly Creatures and Royal Tenenbaums and see what happens to other fucked up families, whether tragic and true or beautifully art directed and totally — if relatably — whacked.

Maybe you were invited in because after all of this (not to mention the world’s most epic hugs from my daughters as the credits rolled at the end of Heavenly Creatures), there is more thing:

Christmas is coming.

I (still) love Christmas.

Sorry (not really) if this offends anyone.

…………..

So listen, Grateful -

I stand by (and can’t stand) the Fried, Exhausted, Terrified, Paralyzed, Furious, Heartbroken, Confused part of this hot mess…

…and on paper, you MOST DEFINITELY DON’T BELONG HERE.  

But I am so glad you keep busting in. You make it possible for me to get up each day and try to tackle those other (currently) non-negotiable beasts at the table and remind me to be and do better where and when I can.

I can.
I will.
I promise.

But I will be careful with the News.
(And follow the actual Science).

Sincerely (and Happy Chanukah, which I am also grateful for!),


Stephanie


ps.  This table scenario has reminded me of a Sesame Street song: “One of These Things is not Like the Others.” They always nail it.

pps.   To the friends in Chicago I didn’t get to see.  I love you and can’t wait to hug you next time.  I am attempting to come out from under my rock.  Same goes to my friends in California and Michigan (and Barcelona).  I miss you and you all make me (more) grateful.

pps. To anyone who thinks I am one of the luckiest people on the planet and/or sound like an asshole:

I know.