Thanksgiving is a beautiful holiday because it brings out something tender and true in us. It’s the one of the two days a year where the world seems to collectively pause, take a breath, and say, “Okay, let’s remember what actually matters.”

Yesterday, I caught myself doing that thing again—staring at my phone, scrolling through nothing. I had opened it to answer a message, and before I knew it, forty-two minutes had vanished in the TikTok–Instagram–Email vortex of distraction. The pasta water was boiling over on the stove. My dog sat patiently by her bowl staring at me. A text from a friend sat unread. And I had that familiar sinking feeling again—that little ache behind the ribs—the feeling of time slipping awa