Needless to say, this year I was able to relax and enjoy the day. And as I didn't have to worry about keeping the various "plates spinning," as required by running a restaurant, I was able to focus on the holiday and my family for a change of pace. In my pain au chocolat induced meditative state what this year's Thanksgiving really meant, hit me.
From 2006 until last spring, we had lived in northern New Hampshire, in what can only be described as the quintessential New England ski town...and in the heart of the New Hampshire ski industry. In addition to working on the holiday, Thanksgiving had been THE day of transition; from little rural town to bustling, throbbing ski town. I would spend the next 4-1/2 months working well in excess of 90 hours per week to feed those masses of skiers. My wife would work 7-days a week until the first weekend of April coaching budding ski racers. It was an exaggerated version of fishing-while-the-fish-are-biting resulting in not seeing family members for days on end.
We put our family on hold for the entire winter.
But this year is different. For the first time in her life, my daughter has me around on the weekends, (much to her pre-teen chagrin, I assure you). My wife has days off. We eat dinner together, as a family, almost every night of the week. I feel like an active participant in my family...not just a lodger or occasional visitor.
And for that I am truly grateful.
