On Thanksgiving Day last year, I was unemployed and living in my parent's house. It was a strange point in my life, from which I've grown exponentially. I remember last year how inadequate I felt about not being able to bring over food to our Thanksgiving dinner. If I had done that, I would be using food that my mom bought, using her dishes and, sadly, she probably would have washed said dish. So I didn't make anything.
Now that I'm all moved out, employed and on my own, it was the first time that I could really bring a dish to Thanksgiving. I didn't bring anything fancy, but even my green bean casserole was a sign that I was on my own and contributing to the family meal in a grown-up kind of way.
I was tickled by the whole experience, as frivolous as it was, and grateful for how far I've come in a year.