Then Linds called me. I sat upstairs and we bitched. She bitched about the situation. I bitched about the situation. And we concurred that 23 was still an acceptable age to throw tantrums if we saw fit, and we did. And we laughed a lot. We hatched a plan to merge our families together for future holiday events so that we would have less to bitch about in the future. Or at least we could bitch together in person. I hid upstairs on the phone for as long as I could get away with and then went back downstairs to have dinner with the family somewhat begrudgingly and laughed to myself frequently thinking of Lindsay sitting in the Cleveland hospital probably giving everyone a hard time too.
While this is not a particularly happy story to share, I feel it is an important one because it causes me to remember certain things. I remember how hard things were at times and how much fortitude Lindsay demonstrated in those 2 years. And how whiny the two of us could really be. I will never fully accept that she is gone, but I am able to smile knowing that she is in a happier place. A place with bountiful amounts of turkey and pie. I am able to smile knowing that I am in a better place too. On the trail this morning, I thought of all the people I am thankful for. The friends and family I have been blessed with, living or not, and the incredible impact they have had on my life.
Now if I could just get Billie, John, Brandon, and Brooke to consider DC for Turkey Day... then Linds and I would have nothing left to bitch about.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.