Thanksgiving and the Tale of Two Hearts

Two hearts?

Well, one heart, really. Just mine. But sometimes it feels split in two.

This Thanksgiving holiday has been marked by wonderful visits. My husband and I traveled to New Hampshire to be with his family. Yes, I stuffed myself on a feast I gratefully didn't have to prepare. Returning the favor with a perfect post-dinner clean-up was a small price to pay. The annual family game night was topped by one of the most epic games of Pictionary ever. Have you ever played this game -- kind of like charades but with drawing the clues instead -- with two award-winning artists who can draw faster than you can think? Three hours later, eight of us had laughed ourselves silly. The next morning's breakfast started with reliving the highlights and laughing even before the caffeine kicked in.

And, of course, The Hike. As many family could manage, we hiked six miles to a remote pond and took the obligatory selfies with the perfect duck face and filters. My college-age daughter let me know I'm hopelessly dorky and my son laughed in a way that's reserved for the I'm-glad-I'm-not-seen-with-her-in-public kind of way. I basked in their gentle teasing because they freely gave their love and I felt new doors open in our relationships. They are becoming fine adults and my maternal heart swelled.

I'll cherish these memories and let their positive energy fill me and carry me on through the tougher times.

Because earlier in the week I was with my parents. I spent five days at their New York home and became painfully aware these will be my dad's last holidays. I left as my sister arrived, with all the Thanksgiving fixings packed carefully in her car to ensure her three Labrador dogs didn't feast early on the four-hour trek from her Vermont home. I spent my visit outfitting my parents' home with the stuff of the ailing and aged, taking my dad to doctor's visits, and checking his O2 levels. She called in hospice.

And this is where a piece of my heart feels as if I left it somewhere along the highway. The full spectrum of family pulled on me in one short week. I hurt for my dad. I ache for my mom. I felt surrounded by love and laughter as I texted and emailed and called for updates.

I cannot deny this process of life even as I know it inevitably leads to death.

So, for now, my heart is full to the point of breaking and I will cherish all of what these holidays have to offer.