Thanksgiving

I wish I had some big family thanksgiving tradition to write about. You know, one of those stories where the whole family gathers and there are dozens and dozens of people. And we talk to relatives we haven't seen for awhile and learn about what each other is doing, about lost or new jobs; what our kids are up to and where they're going to college, and share stories of successes and failures. About good times and bad. I can see a big long table filled with grandparents and babies and everyone in between. I see laughter and love and lots of food.

But I have no tradition like this to write about because of divorce. Besides the word "hate" I think I hate that word the most. So does God ( Malachi 2:16 ). Divorce. Sounds final and violent.

Here is what I'm not saying: that this is any one's fault.

Here is what I am saying: I love my parents and God is desperately in love with divorced people. Today I am thankful for the marriage examples set by my Grandma and Grandpa Evans, Grandma and Grandpa Royer ( 66 years ), Nana and Pop Scheiring ( 68 years ), Grandma and Grandpa Glass. They all lived and are living the "till death do us part" thing.

Me too.