Good week/bad week

It is Thanksgiving week. How it got to be late November already, I have no idea. I really love the holidays, so I do enjoy Thanksgiving week. Really, it is a short week. Wednesday is the day before, with preparing for the next day. Thanksgiving day is nice, and that night I start getting out my Christmas stuff. Up until last year, the day after was not only a crazy work day, but the start of a month of crazy days to come. And six day work weeks. Yuck. Last year I wasn't working, but I did not partake in Black Friday shopping. This year I may do a little. Some how, Chet got this weekend, and Monday off. Saturday night we hope to go to our Zoolights with Sophie. We have never done that before. My sister will be here from Wednesday until Monday, and I am really looking forward to that.

The bad part? Thanksgiving of 1986. That was my first year working, and the day before Thanksgiving was very rainy. In the morning I took my sister Cathy to work on my way to school. I was at a community college, and she was home on break from a state college. That night I got called into work. There wasn't enough gas in the car, so I had to stop in the pouring rain at my dads office to get gas. I don't remember if he gave me money, or if I filled up there, because they had their own pumps for their installers trucks. I just remember driving the family station wagon in the pouring rain. That night I was in bed when my sisters Cathy and Gina got home from a movie. My sister Cathy peeked her head into my room and asked if I wanted to go to a family brunch in the morning at her work. I said maybe, I think. Then she went back out with her boyfriend. Hours later I woke up to hear my mom on the phone. I got up, and my mom was going to Cathy's room because her boyfriends sister called and asked if Cathy was home. She wasn't. My parents thought she was asleep in bed. My mom had misunderstood. Cathy and her boyfriend had been in a car accident. John was at one hospital, and they had taken Cathy to another one, just about a mile down the hill from our house. MY mom called the hospital and was told she was in surgery, and nothing else. Then two policemen showed up at the door. as it turned out, the accident was four blocks down the street. Straight down our street. MY parents headed to the hospital and insisted we stay. I will never know why I didn't go. There was another car in the driveway. But they had said to stay. So I was there with my two other sisters, ages 17 and 13. We were praying the whole time. I was sure she would be fine. I mean, it was Thanksgiving, about 3 in the morning, maybe. Certainly God wouldn't let anything bad happen, on Thanksgiving no less. Then my parents came back. And, our parish priest. Not a good sign. Cathy had died. They operated on her, but could not save her. Cathy was ten months and two days younger than me. She was always in my life. Needless to say, life was never the same again.

Cathy died on Thanksgiving, November 27th, 1986. So, really there are two anniversaries of her death. Thanksgiving, and the 27th. Last year Thanksgiving fell on the 27th, but this year the 27th is Friday. Thanksgiving is a little weird in my family. For years it was just Chet, I and my parents. Two years ago Sophie joined us. This year one of my sisters will be here for the first time in 10 years. Four years after Cathy died, my Grandma died on Thanksgiving. And 20 years after she died, Sophie was conceived on Thanksgiving. TMI maybe, but noteworthy. It is just a strange day. Also this year, not only is the 27th the 23rd anniversary of Cathy's death, but the one month anniversary of our dog Simon's death. Cathy was an old soul from day one. And so was Simon. I am sure they have found each other in Heaven.