Grateful hearts

Having separated from her husband before Thanksgiving, Justine heads to her friend's house to celebrate...and gets a big surprise

- Denice Stradling

"Don't you just love Thanksgiving, Mom?" my 10-year-old Amanda exclaimed as we readied ourselves for the day. I was glad and surprised to see her so excited about something, especially since her father, Teddy, and I, had separate months before.

Though he had moved out, we were determined to co-parent without letting our differences get in the way. Still, the pain lingered.

"Babe, I do!" I said, as I sprinkled marshmallows atop the fragrant yams. "But you tell me why you do."

This year, we were going to my best friend's home for dinner. I was hoping that their daughter Claire's close friendship with Amanda might mitigate the fact that she, myself and Teddy weren't spending the holiday together for the first time.

"Because it's in November, an 'ember' month. Like September and December. And when I think of ember months, I think of fires on cold nights, red and yellow leaves, and...well, all that kind of stuff!"

I sighed wistfully as Amanda's feet pitter-pattered off to her room to get dressed. For as long as I could remember, Teddy had called these months the "ember months": they were our favorite, a time for warm, cozy nights at home watching movies and cuddling. That was the romantic streak in him that I had loved...why couldn't we get past the streaks we didn't love?