Hello, you.
Gather round. The table is ready. There is a place set for you. It’s time to align with the deep rhythms of this season and for the coziest ritual of the year.
I grew up in the southeastern part of the United States, North Carolina to be exact. Here, slow, savory, southern cooking is a rhythm and a ritual, following the seasons and holidays of the year. Weekly Sunday dinners after church was a ritual of gathering together for an hour or two in the midst of our busy lives. Carefree Saturday night cookouts in the backyard, sometimes with neighbors, always gave me a sense of vacation fun no matter the season. Easter egg hunts followed by a big Easter dinner with family was a celebration of color and life. Multiple Christmas dinners squeezed in between gift-giving, as we criss-crossed the state visiting grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins we see only a few times a year, gave me a real sense of grounding each year. All of these gatherings were times spread out the year that taught me to return and reconnect with who I am and where I come from.
But, the gathering, the dinner, the annual ritual, that is burned deep into my soul as my most favorite celebration of the year is Thanksgiving. Falling at the end of autumn and the beginning of winter, it was the threshold for the holiday season. It was the official start of the magical season of Yule, Christmas, and a new year. And as a child (ok even now as an adult), the anticipation of the holidays beginning was palpable. But, before all of the holiday rush began, Thanksgiving, at its heart, in my family, at least, was also a time to literally just be together and give thanks. And, that is what really made it so special to me.
This annual ritual in my family was the coziest one of the year. Its main purpose was to gather together, eat a hearty spread of turkey and dressing and yams and pumpkin pie, and simply enjoy each other. Often we would take a walk after dinner, only to come back and then snack a little more. We would definitely build our first fire in the fireplace. And, by evening, we would sit around the fire to watch the first Christmas movie of the season. Whatever home I found myself in throughout the years, my grandparents homes, my mom and dad’s cabin, or even my own home as an adult, Thanksgiving has always been a day that feels soft, warm, and glowy. There was always music playing, laughter and conversations, and home smelled of spices and baked goods and turkey basting and smoke from the fire.
Of course, Thanksgiving is not just a warm, glowy, idyllic holiday. My mother and grandmothers and aunts often slaved over hot stoves for hours, preparing for days. Whether they liked it that way, or not, I don’t really know. They just did it. Created an atmosphere of warmth and love and home. Of course, many people find themselves alone and without a home or food during this most home-centered holiday.
And, then there is the whole wider view of Thanksgiving, of the remembrance of how my ancestors from Great Britain came to the “new land” in search for their own freedom, while taking away freedoms from the indigenous peoples who had lived here for thousands of years. The land was not new. It was just new to my ancestors. The story, the legends, the history of Thanksgiving is a messy, complicated one; but one that I hope informs us now on how to better live in community, focus on reconciliation and support, and stop for a moment to give thanks for each other and for all that we have.
Even with all of its controversy, though, these childhood memories from my Thanksgivings past have been a stable foundation for me and are a deep part of who I am and what I hold dear. Of course, the number of people who gather together in my family has dwindled as time has passed. Both a melancholic and beautiful thought, I believe, as we move on in our own ways.
However, today, I carry on these traditions in my own way, now that my life is in Sweden and away from my family back in North Carolina. I may have moved far from my home state, but I carry all of the memories and traditions of all kinds of Thanksgivings I’ve celebrated with me. And, from those memories, I keep the legacy, the rituals, and the rhythms of this holiday going.
Each year, I cook a big Thanksgiving meal and invite in the closest of family members that live nearby. It’s usually a small, simple, cozy gathering, but I know that I am continuing the traditions and using the sweet and savory recipes of my southern family. It is such an honor and such a deep, meaningful time to me. And, like all the years of my life, in my little family here in Sweden, it is still the official start of the holiday season for us.
But, before I baste the turkey breasts and prepare the sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie, I always sit down to one more ritual, one more tradition, that I have created on my own, that helps me to celebrate and honor the memories and blessings of this time of the year.
And, ultimately, that is what this letter it all about.
This ritual of looking back over the past year is my way of slowing down and focusing on gratitude before the holidays begin and the year comes to an end. And each Thanksgiving, when I create this photo essay, I am able to really take the time to reflect back over the year and see how all of the lessons, celebrations, grief, and love have changed, informed, and carried me through it all.
So, before I make my shopping list for my Thanksgiving meal next Saturday, here is a little of how the past 12 months have blessed me immensely.
Last November 2023: The first month without my dad
December 2023: The one with a simple, snowy Christmas
January 2024: The one that started our year of celebration
In 2024, Lina and I decided that this would be a year of celebration. She would turn 40, I would turn 50, and we would celebrate 15 years of marriage. We needed to move away from the grief, sadness, and chaos of the past few years. So, with hope, we stepped into the new year together, determined to focus on finding stability and grounding again.
February 2024: The one when we adopted Bear
February is a very difficult month for me. There is much loss associated with it. And, this year was no different. So, even as the days become a tiny bit brighter, I have to just hold tight to my daily routines, my soul practices, and the magic that is found in simple, everyday moments. This year, unexpectedly, we welcomed Bear the cat into our lives - and oh how he has added joy and comfort to our lives. Feels so good to be a little family of three again.
March 2024: The one when the sun returns
In March, the sun returns to our balcony in the mornings, signaling for me the coming of spring is not far away. Everything feels new and fresh again. So, in the midst of these wild, windy March days, I focused on the rhythms of the season and celebrations of light and life, both in solitude and gathered with family.
April 2024: The one filled with light and everyday life
April was filled with the most mundane and ordinary days. But, seeing the tiny buds on trees and flowers beginning to break forth from their winter slumber gave me such hope and created magic right in the middle of everyday life. And, while spring is not my favorite time of the year, if I am honest, this April felt a bit different. I felt lighter, freer, more ready to rise with the sun and the light.
May 2024: The one with my love’s 40th birthday - and a trip to Italy!
We opened our balcony up for the season in May! Longer days were now upon us. The air smelled like lilacs and sunshine. And, my love turned 40, so we whisked ourselves off for five days in Florence, Italy to celebrate her with wine, castles, art, photography, and the beauty of Tuscany. May was like a beautiful, life-filled, colorful dream!
June 2024: The one filled with midsummer nights
In June, the days are never-ending, the nights are warm and bright. I found myself by the sea, basking in the sun, swimming to cool off from the heat, spending time with friends and family deep into the summer nights on the balcony.
July 2024: The one with the mini-trips during our vacay
After a day or two of work and a spontaneous haircut (!), July was filled with 4 weeks of vacay. We decided to take a few mini-trips, starting with two days of art in Stockholm to kick off the vacay vibes. Then, a couple of days in the archipelago by the sea where we also had a big, beautiful, classic summer birthday celebration with family and friends. We then went to Copenhagen for a few days to soak in all of its funky, urban inspo. And, finally, returned home for a couple of weeks of long, hot, lazy days at home.
August 2024: The one of returning home again
Even though, we were at home during the end of our vacay, the real return happened in August. Work started up again and it felt so good to slip back into those everyday routines and rituals that I love. We started creating cheeseboards for weekends at home, spent time out in the woods foraging chanterelles, cracked open the wine that we brought back from Copenhagen to soak in the last few weeks of balcony season, and had another birthday celebration - this time in Uppsala with old friends and some family that live there. (We lived in Uppsala for 6-7 years).
September 2024: The one with my 50th birthday - and a trip to Scotland!
Oh, September this year. I will never be able to express just how magical this month was for me. Celebrating my 50th birthday was incredible, empowering, and symbolized the beginning of a new era. I had not planned on that at all, but it just unfolded that way. And I cannot wait to see what it all means and how things continue to unfold.
October 2024: The one all about endings
October is beautiful and golden, but it is always a very transitional month of endings. I felt it even more so this year. The sun leaves our balcony again, until next March. My dad has now been gone for a whole year - and I can hardly believe it. The earth began to draw inward, as did I. And, while it seems so frightening and sad, surrendering to October and the dark half of the year always feels so right to me. And, this year, I was more ready than ever.
November 2024: The one that ushered in a new start
And, here we are. November. The darkest, most melancholic, moodiest month of the year. Another year has gone, a big one, for me. And it is time, once again, to gather around the Thanksgiving table. The darkness has settled in. My roots are deep and strong. The first snow has come. And the magical gifts of winter are waiting. Something new is hibernating and incubating way deep down in my soul.
I feel deep gratitude this year for all of the different memories and moments that have filled my days since last Thanksgiving. While I have been on some amazing journeys and trips, the bulk of my days over the past 12 months have been filled with everyday routines and rituals. But, ordinary life has been a balm for my soul. I needed it. My wife and I both needed it.
As I give thanks this year, what I most blessed by is that feeling that this past year has been stabilizing and grounding for me. It has been a time for me to just land and be. To root down and let life return to a bit of normalcy. Deep within my soul I feel that this year has been a pause between years of chaos and grief, and the beginning of a whole new era of growth and evolution.
So, my friend, wherever you are, whether you celebrate Thanksgiving or not, I wish you the most blessed week ahead. May you find pockets of moments where you can spend a few minutes wondering about the blessings that have come into your life over the past year. And, may we all take those blessings that we have received and pay them forward in whatever way we can.
One last thing. Words cannot fully express that gratitude I feel that you gather here with me whenever I send you a letter. That you take time from your day and your busy schedule to read my words or listen to my voice, humbles me in the deepest part of my soul. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friend. Love and light to you. Wishing you a week of coziness and inspiration and gratitude in the depths of the darkness of this time of you.
xoxo. liz.
Soundtrack of the week
Gather round the table. It is time for remembering, giving thanks, and celebrating the simple rituals of breaking bread together.
Share this post