When Covid Meets Thanksgiving

This is the year.

The year when everything needs to be perfect. It’s most likely our last Thanksgiving together as a family with our mom, Nanny.
We know it.

We’ve been planning for it ever since the dreaded news came a few weeks ago… that of most likely being granted three more months together.

So every event.
Occasion.
Get together.
Conversation…
Every. One. Counts.

So we've aimed high.
We’ve aimed for excellence.
We aim to do our best.

Thanksgiving plans this year took us to another level. We planned for a special festive party - filled with family, faith, and togetherness. We planned for brain teasers, games, food, and family….

And then two of our kids from two different families came down with a cold early this past week. A sniffly nose and a low grade fever. Nothing major - just some minor cold symptoms.

I had taken my usual weekend off from caring for my mom and had switched spots with my brother and his dear wife, and kids.

And then someone we’ve spent time with recently called with a positive Covid test.

The week of thanksgiving.
The week where everything -
had been staged to be perfect.

And the tests came back for the sniffling ones -positive. Everyone else was negative.

And as per normal, everyone (meaning families and extended families) went into overdrive.

Dan, Kat, and I moved into Nanny’s basement apartment. A place we felt God calling us to prepare more than two years ago. A place where the ventilation never crosses paths with the upstair’s air.

A place you can still hear the pitter patter of tiny feet and feel ever so close, but still remain separated.

A place that has become a haven and hang out for many over the past few years.

A place of refuge.

WE became the ones seeking asylum to see if we could wait out a quarantine period and not succumb to the virus.

Pieces and parts of Nanny’s apartment-type living (prior to us moving in with her six weeks ago) had been stored in the garage waiting to be donated to whomever might be in need. A microwave. A toaster oven. A tea kettle. A mini fridge. These went straight back into use.

An American Red Cross cot arrived along with the gas camp stove the nomads used over the summer on their trip West… And the precious food we had stored in the overflow garage fridge became our menu.

The electrical system still has quite a few quirks and we've learned that the space heaters need to be staggered with tea kettle and microwave use. But … oh, my goodness. We are indeed blessed.

And so the week began…

House One - sick as dogs and momma couldn’t be there to monitor and care for my baby and niece.

House Two - healthy as horses and bickering like babies in the basement.

House Three - a blessed Nanny, her son, his wife, and three blessed babies.

Not how we would choose to enter into
The Last Thanksgiving week.

And yet…

We are reminded of another Last Thanksgiving week when Jesus broke the bread and said, “This is my body which is broken for you… do this in remembrance of me.”

Eucharisteo

The act of giving thanks in response to grace. Fully aware that while we would have chosen another way - the grace hasn’t run dry.

We live.
And breathe.

We have the sacrifice made hours after The Last Supper tucked deeply within us.

The sacrifice of the Cross.

We see God’s hand moving around us. Staging the week in such a way that all has been provided for in ways we could never have planned or anticipated.

We’re quarantining literally eight feet underneath the very floor on which our dear Nanny’s sits. She rolls her walker across the floor and we know right where she is.

She has a beautiful loving family literally all around her keeping her fed, entertained, bathed and cared for … all in her own home.

We hear giggles through the ceiling tiles and we know God has provided.

Throughout this whole season of bringing our dear mom home on hospice we have seen the fingerprints of God.

Touching, moving, arranging, and preparing… Sustaining, providing, leading and guiding…

Would we have asked for another way? Yes. Period. No questions asked.

Our mom’s greatest wish for many years has been to live out her life to the fullest within the comfort of her own home, surrounded by family, until her last breath.

Believe me - not one of us would have chosen the route of hospice as the path to carry out her hopes and dreams.

Yet, God did.

And we can only respond with Eucharisteo.

Thanksgiving.

Because when we are so often -
sometimes moment by moment -
reminded that God provides.
God sees.
God hears.
God knows…

We are also reminded that He, too, would have chosen another path for the redemption of the world.

He, too, would have chosen some way other than The Sacrifice of His Son to break the curse of sin so that we… His Beloved, might be free.

Eucharisteo… Thanksgiving

The day begins and ends with the Cross.

To remember His goodness in all things.
To understand that to truly know Him…
is to know Him in suffering.

And suddenly we realize that Thanksgiving has been going on day after day within our hearts.

Every time we remember.
Every time - the Cross - held high.

Maybe we can’t see each other in the way we prefer today. The way we planned to celebrate this Thanksgiving Day

But when you carry around the gift of Eucharisteo deep within - days and times like this prove that “together” is not defined by physical proximity but by an intertwining of hearts that love one another. 💕💕💕

Be blessed dear friends today.
Find your thanksgiving and carry it well.

- Much love from Camp Quarantine