Thanksgiving in our family is loud in the good way. Abbey and I take a break from our work, William is running around the house, Moose is hoping something falls off the counter, and the kitchen fills up with people we don’t see often enough the rest of the year. It’s my favourite kind of chaos, and this year more than most it’s got me thinking about what actually holds a town like ours together.
It’s the people who volunteer. The coaches who run minor hockey and ball practices in the cold. The folks who set up chairs, run the fundraisers, plough a neighbour’s driveway without being asked, and show up early to everything that makes West Perth feel like West Perth. Almost none of that shows up in a municipal budget, and all of it is why families like mine want to put down roots here.
I’m grateful for this town, and I’m grateful for how it’s treated my family. Abbey teaches at Mitchell District High School, our son is growing up within walking distance of where I did, and over the last couple months I’ve had tons of conversations with people who care about this place — including plenty who told me straight up what’s not working. That’s a gift, honestly. A town where people bother to say what they think is a town worth showing up for.
It’s also been a humbling couple months. Running for council means asking your neighbours to trust you with real decisions, and I’ve tried to do it the way I’d want it done to me: show up, listen more than I talk, and put the receipts on the table. Whatever happens on October 26, I’m thankful for every doorstep conversation, every question, and every person who took the time.
So this weekend, eat well, and enjoy the people around your table. If you see me out and about after the holiday, say hello — I read everything and I respond.
Happy Thanksgiving, from our family to yours.