Thanksgiving

So I am sitting in the Corner Bakery of Union Station. There is so much buzz here. It makes me think of how much I really love the holidays. People going to and fro in order to spend a few moments with the ones that they love. Suitcases packed with unnecessary clothing; pajamas are the most comfortable. Small children skipping while being dragged by their caretakers so they dont miss the train. Umbrellas shaking off bad weather DC rains. Necks being zipped up in facetious coat zippers. Scarves flying away to heavens. Old ladies congregating next to families of two and three, waiting for the Washington Tours bus. And every now and again in the midst of the hustle and bustle you find someone stopped, turning a hot chocolate or coffee to their lips, someone lost and looking for the baggage claim, a mouth enjoying a sandwich and a child reading the pictures of a book in the Barnes and Noble. But thats not it. As people leave and get into there cars and cabs, I am reminded that this is the first Thanksgiving I wont spend with my family. My new family is awaiting my arrival and counting the stove minutes until the turkey is ready. And I am glad. Glad to know that as we come and go, to and fro to our destinations someone is always watching for us to come home. And the beauty of things dies outside with the change of the leaves, the beauty of our life shrinks to the inside of a home, a hug, a fireplace; somewhere warm and familiar.