Growing up, my side of the family really didn't have any traditions. She'd cook, we'd eat. Period. We didn't visit family nor did they visit us. It was just Mom, Dad, Me and my little brother.

Then, for Thanksgiving 2005 in Georgia, my boyfriend of 3 months, invited me to his family Thanksgiving. For them, it is more like a reunion. Every year, his family picks one person to host the event, normally somewhere between South Carolina, Georgia and Florida. That first Thanksgiving with them was amazing. I had never seen family together like that nor experienced the love that shown to me before.

For the past two years, we've been in Texas, moving here for my husband's new job. We made the 12 hour drive home last year and spent Thanksgiving with them again. This year, however, it's been tight four us. We bought our first home, a new puppy and some recent unexpected repairs. No matter how we crunch the numbers, it just doesn't equal us going home this year.

Kroger had a pre-cooked dinner with our name on it, but as of last week a great couple from church is having us over. The same wonderful couple that brought us a welcome dinner when we first moved here in January 2012 and been a constant comfort away from family. 

While this year's tradition is not going to be celebrated, there's always next year.