the merge

jake's parents, us, my parents
now you see where we get it?

A wedding is so much more than a decision between two people. It is a community acknowledgment of that decision- families and friends coming together to support and agree to this commitment, because it affects everyone. Time, relationships, even joined finances effect the lives of the people in our lives. So, why not have Thanksgiving, the first major holiday since our wedding, be a demonstration of this? 

Jake and I hosted Thanksgiving for both our families this year. Important backstory is that our parents get along swimmingly. They didn't meet until we were already engaged, but when they finally did, a dinner date turned into a slumber party at my parent's home. Up to all hours chatting. Breakfast together in the morning. Jake and I amused and thankful. Needless to say, we weren't concerned about the combo-Thanksgiving-meal's social dynamic. We knew it would be different, but good. We're also keenly aware of how blessed we are with the parents we've got. They're warm, kind, quirky people. Our kind of people. 

I loved having our families together- being able to have our pie and eat it too. Not deciding between the two, or splitting the day with travel. All the same, a merge is still a merge and everything hit a little deeper than I expected it to- seating arrangements, conversation topics, explaining traditions. Its in these funny little details that I realize I do feel different now that I'm married.

You know how on a birthday or event, people ask if you feel different? "Wow, so you're 25 now. Feel different?" or "Does that ring on your finger make you feel any different?" I don't think the change sinks into feeling until these little merger moments. Until I realize I should sit at the LaCroix table, not the Kurczy table. Or that it would be weird to sit next to my mom instead of my husband. 

I got really possessive of my pie leftovers. Jake got some of his mom's pie and I got some of my mom's. I was feisty about sharing my apple-berry pie. And don't even think about touching my piece of mom's pumpkin pie, made with Meema's recipe. I did catch my immature, emotionally inept, self and share a few bites. But only a few.