We hosted Thanksgiving dinner for 30 today.
It was a wonderful and magnificent pain-in-the-ass.
And it’s probably the first Thanksgiving my 4-year old will remember in his life.
But it still pales in comparison to last year.
With my wife 40 weeks pregnant and expecting the arrival of our second son at any moment, we were in kind of a holding pattern.
We eschewed the large gathering and had one last meal as a family of three.
I spent the day cooking. I figured just because it wasn’t the usual large crowd doesn’t mean we should cut any corners.
When we sat down to eat that afternoon, I was worn out.
But we had a nice, if somewhat quiet meal together.
As my wife set her fork down to finish, an odd look came over her face.
She told me to go ahead and take our oldest to Mimsy and Popsy’s house. Then she suggested getting a nap if I could. She went off to lay down and call the doctor.
After nervously pacing the living room and listening to Enya on volume 100 for about 2 hours, I was able to get some rest.
My wife woke me up about 4am, we drove to the hospital and six hours later we had an eleven pound baby, which was no joke larger than our turkey.
Tomorrow we celebrate the first birthday of that baby.
And with it, one of the most consequential and interesting years of my life comes to a close.
We tend to overestimate what we can accomplish in one day.
But when we start to apply ourselves to our most important aspirations, it’s shocking what we can accomplish in one year.
As I sit here and reflect on the last year, I am filled with humble gratitude in what is once again becoming a beautiful life.
What a day. What a year.