Thanksgiving

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Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving, it was all about this little guy:  my 2 year old nephew we call “Dandelion,” because of the chick fuzz on his head. We don’t get to see him very often as he lives far away, so we go into full-on frenzied paparazzi mode when he visits. All weekend long we openly, shamelessly vied for a word, a glance, or a wave of the hand with every kind of blandishment and bribe we could throw his way. Despite our exertions, he would only bestow his favor upon my daughter and the men in the family. It didn’t stop the rest of us from trying, though…

Here’s Dandelion with his dad, my little brother:

And here he is with his mother:

See the golden glow around her? She is truly as lovely inside as she is on the outside. Sometimes we jokingly ask my brother, “How did YOU, the Prince of Darkness, manage to convince the Sugar Plum Fairy to marry you?” (This may possibly be the reason why he refers to us, his loving sisters, as “the Harpies”). His wife comes from a family of life coaches and counselors who live to communicate and help people find fulfillment and reach their fullest potential. She herself is a life coach, as well as an amazing singer-songwriter. When my taciturn and somewhat misanthropic brother will break his silence to idly muse about, say, his desire to open a zoo, where humans, rather than animals are displayed behind bars, a pained expression will pass over his wife’s face. She’ll say, “Honey, I really think we need to process that.” Whereupon, he will amiably punch her delicate arm with his meaty fist and say, “OK, Dude.”

It was a typical Kim family holiday: sit, chat, eat, repeat. Sit, chat, eat, repeat. Sit, chat, eat, repeat…

My poor son had to work on his term paper outline all weekend long…

Every once in a while he would take a break to sprint around the block:


I found a reminder of our trip to San Francisco in my parents’ fridge. We had eaten smoked salmon for breakfast every morning in the Garden Court at the Palace Hotel. My mother proclaimed that she felt like she was eating a king’s feast, and so we started to call her the “Countess” for the rest of the time we were there. This weekend when I opened the fridge, I saw that my sister had bought some smoked salmon for her and had attached this note:

Today is my sister’s birthday. She is the sun around which our family revolves. She is extravagant in her love, lavish in her generosity. She is wickedly funny and witty. I think she may be the only person in the world, who reads so voraciously that she takes books into the shower. She is the world’s best storyteller. Honest to God, listening to her retell a movie plot is way better than actually seeing the movie. She can talk about the price of crude oil and somehow make it so enthralling that you hang on her every word. Beauty follows in her wake. I love you, Sissy. Happy Birthday, and may your every wish come true! xoxoxo

This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for so many things, but most of all: for my family.

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