Parable of the pie
How are you? It's been a bit longer than anticipated since I've had a message to share. Maybe you too have been focused on navigating the twists and turns of this wild year. It's so easy to lose track of time! Know that you've been on my mind and I truly hope you're taking good care of yourself and finding your way forward.
A few days ago our fridge was destroyed by a power surge. While I was troubleshooting and sorting out how to manage yet another unexpected situation my son said,
"Remember the Thanksgiving when the pie hit the wall? This whole year has felt like that!"
He was 100% right.
And so, I'd like to share with you the Parable of the Pie as you're perhaps prepping for your own Thanksgiving, whatever that might look like in these strange times.
This story begins after we'd made our cross-country move. The novelty of change had worn off and we were in the midst of a challenging phase of adjusting to everything being new and different. In an effort to soothe our tender hearts, I decided to spend Thanksgiving in one of our favorite places, Sedona, to recharge and play. We'd have a peaceful holiday, still maintaining some of our traditions, the most important being my son's beloved pumpkin chocolate pie. I've been making some variation of it for years and although he was still a wee thing, it was already his favorite. Even now, it doesn't matter where or how we celebrate, so long as the pie is part of it.
Somehow, while transporting the completed pie the short distance from the tiny kitchen to the table, it left my grasp and flew, in slow motion, into the wall. This was no ordinary culinary mishap. You might wonder, as I do, how it's even possible to drop a pie on the WALL. Years later, I still have no clue.
My son witnessed the whole incident and instantly became distraught. My mama heart, that was just barely keeping it together, hit the wall too. I don't recall ever simultaneously laughing and crying so hard in my life. I was in shock, I crumpled to the floor. Thankfully his auntie swooped in to salvage the pie while my man-cub and I were a hot mess. I don't know how we have pictures of this event, but somehow we knew this moment was a keeper.
Yes, we still ate the smashed pie, with a heaping dollop of cinnamon whipped cream.
Look at that little 5 year old buddy! How many times this year, week, or even today have you felt that way inside, watching what you hold dear hit the wall? For most of us, we've had plenty of recent moments witnessing plans, hopes, traditions hit the wall. It's heart-breaking. You don't know if you want to cry. Laugh. Pretend it's not happening. Numb out in response.
I'm so grateful for the wisdom of my kiddo who remembers this moment years later, not as a failure on my part, but as a moment when life hit the wall and we made the most of it anyway. He reminded me, when yet another thing hit the wall, that after the shock and disappointment, there's always something to be saved. What was intended to be a successful rendition of our pie tradition that year, has instead become a tradition of telling this story, laughing, and preparing to once again, give it our best and hope the pie reaches the Thanksgiving table intact.
Many of us have been scraping pie off the wall or floor this year in one way or another. My prayer is that we'll each continue to discover creative ways to salvage and transform what remains. May we allow space for our holiday traditions to take on a life of their own to guide us more deeply into our resilience and strength.
These are immensely challenging times and it's essential to remember, you're not alone. Our collective heart will be forever changed by these experiences, hopefully for the better.
Taking deep breaths right along with you...and eating plenty of pie, regardless of where it lands,
