I got to go home and surprise my parents for Thanksgiving and hang with my hilarious cousins. The surprise was a complete success (see videos on Facebook... mom cried for a LONG time, she's so cute!!).
And we shot skeet, learned the Virginia Reel, feasted, hiked, attended the cinema, feasted some more, played an intense game of two-hand touch on the arc of a baseball field (weird), and goofed to our heart's content on the Strip. And through it all, I observed something:
My sweet mom worked tirelessly, without question, without complaint, with joy on her face. For us. For me! What an amazing example of service. She was everywhere in the kitchen on Thanksgiving, simultaneously carving turkeys, mashing potatoes, whipping up gravy, and setting the tables. She somehow LIKED cooking the chili dogs and arranging snacks the next day while we peppered the Dry Lake bed with shotgun shells. This afternoon, upon popping through Grandma's front door after hiking Lone Mountain, we discovered a large assortment of turkey sandwiches spread along the counter waiting for us, because she knew we'd be hungry. I can't say I'm at her level of automatic serviceable-ness yet. I still want to run around and have fun.
I really want to learn to be like her someday. She makes everything so beautiful.
That is all.