It's all fine up until the actual eating. I sit down before the spread, the hours of planning and preparation, the chopping and the coupon cutting. I pour the water, I pour the wine. I say grace because that's what I was raised to do.
But we're not thankful for the blessings we've received. I am thankful for the blessing I've received. And it's a small bit sad distinction I didn't see until then. And the meal looks good, but not great, and the table looks so small. I wipe my tears with my paper napkin, and I leave the water and drink the wine.
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