A Love Letter to the Thanksgiving Warriors
(From Those of Us Observing from a Safe Distance)
Dear Brave Souls of the Stuffing,
The Frontline Mashed Potato Battalion,
And The Great Gravy Commanders,
On this sacred week before Thanksgiving, we — the sideline sitters, the emotional supporters, the chair warmers, the strategically unassigned — would like to offer you our deepest thanks.
You are out there right now doing what we only discuss hypothetically:
• Planning menus
• Counting chairs
• Negotiating oven time
• Arguing about who’s bringing what
• And pretending the house can be cleaned in under three days
Meanwhile, we are over here offering moral support from a safe distance, preferably with a beverage.
To the Grocery Store Gladiators
We see you.
Out there battling the Thanksgiving crowds like a turkey-sized Hunger Games.
You went in for cranberry sauce and left with:
– Three carts
– Four emotional breakdowns
– And one stranger’s child who wouldn’t let go of your coat.
You faced bare shelves where pie crust once lived.
You heard the desperate echo of someone whispering, “Is this the last stuffing mix?”
You survived.
And we honor you.
To the Menu Planners
You brave planners with spreadsheets, handwritten lists, and Pinterest boards that could qualify for a degree in strategic operations.
You calculated:
– Vegetarian options
– Gluten-free needs
– Aunt Carol’s “I don’t eat onions but I’ll complain if they’re missing” clause
– And Uncle Mike’s “This isn’t real gravy” speech.
You balanced tradition with innovation…
And then threw innovation out the window because Grandma will riot without her same casserole from 1986.
We applaud your emotional resilience.
To the Cooks
Oh, you culinary champions.
You who:
– Got up early
– Wrestled with a frozen bird that looked at you with judgment
– Questioned your life choices mid-peeling
– And burned at least one thing for stability
You turned chaos into comfort food.
You turned stress into sweet potatoes.
You turned “Why am I doing this?” into “Well, it does smell amazing.”
And for that, we thank you deeply… while remaining conveniently uninvolved.
To the Hosts
Your homes are now:
– Construction zones
– Guest suites
– Emergency nap centers
– A maze of folding chairs and Tupperware lids
You cleaned corners no guest will notice.
You fluffed pillows no one will touch.
And you’ll still apologize for the one speck of dust near the door.
We promise not to judge.
(We might notice the dust, but we’ll silently forgive it.)
And Us?
We will:
– Arrive clean
– Compliment everything
– Eat enthusiastically
– Hold dishes at awkward angles so it looks like we helped
– And leave with leftovers if you make eye contact long enough
We understand our role in this ecosystem.
And we respect yours immensely.
Final Thoughts
So from all of us sitting on the couch, scrolling recipes we’ll never make, pretending we’d help if asked…
Thank you.
For the food.
For the gathering.
For the emotional labor.
We may not chop vegetables, but we do bring gratitude, stretchy pants, and high-quality compliments.
And if you need someone to hold a bowl while you stir —
We’ll be nearby… eventually.
Happy Thanksgiving,
The Official Sideline Support Committee 🦃
Julie Bolejack, MBA
juliebolejack.com
mindfulactivist.etsy.com
