on Thanksgiving

After divorce, the holidays become a long series of elaborate negotiations about who will do what to whom and when. It is never a pretty process, and one that I have come to dread, even fear - that the fragile bonds of a fractured family will finally break.

So it was with great pleasure that I spent Thanksgiving this year with my oldest son, his wife and 3 daughters, up on the western side of Mt. Mansfield with ex-in-laws at their cabin in the woods. And we all had a marvelous time. Everyone contributed something, and we hiked up to the family's grave site, and said a prayer over my ex-parents-in-law.

The prayer started with a quotation from Eric Hoffer which had been sent to me on some site or other: "The hardest arithmetic we are asked to master is that which allows us to count our blessings." So we all counted, each in our own way.

One of us had lost an election that month; one was about to lose his mother-in-law; one had lost her father last summer; another of us had lost another election; I had lost a husband and friend to divorce. But each of us could feel up there on that mountain, that we had each other - regardless of blood line, marriage, divorce or whatever. They had been my family for nearly 40 years, and that was not to be lost.

So I counted my blessings, and they were all in front of me - the 5 in my immediate family, plus all 6 of my ex-in-laws. It is not an exclusive group, but it made for a very special time. I feel very grateful for that day and those people.