I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a husband who loves and cherishes me and is not afraid to make personal sacrifices for our family. I have two healthy, boistrous boys who liven my life. I have a new home and my health and isn’t that all your really need on Thanksgiving? It seems as if it should be but as dinner time draws closer I find myself feeling a bit melancholy. For reasons I won’t get into here, my boys and I are having a quiet Thanksgiving in our new house without any of our extended family. The Hubs is still in Iraq and won’t be home until March of next year and my family lives quite a distance away so none of them were monetarily able to get on the road and visit me this season. Other than Germany, South Carolina is the furthest I’ve lived from my family and I miss being able to hop on the highway and get to them in two or three hours. Spending this thanksgiving so quietly has me reminiscing on ‘holiday’s past’. When I was younger, my mother, sister and I used to visit my aunts and cousins every year in Flatbush; Brooklyn NYC for those of you who aren’t familiar with the city. My great aunt died several years ago and my family isn’t nearly as tightly knit as it was then but, this song makes me homesick for those days; homesick for the city. Why does it seem that the older I get the more bittersweet the holidays are for me?