With Thanksgiving right around the corner, I can’t help but think about all the children without parents, homes and/or food. Being a parent of two small children, it definitely tugs at your heartstrings. Growing up, we weren’t the most fortunate home on the block. I remember eating toast with butter and a can of whole tomatoes on top. And for me, that felt like a five-star meal. I was raised by my grandmother and grandfather and when her arthritis forced her to stop working at a young age, it left her on disability and my grandfather as the sole provider for the household. Even when family and friends recommended that she visited a weed dispensary to try and find something that could help with the pains, she was still determined to push through. We went through quite a bit of rough patches, but somehow, they always found a way to make ends meet. Maybe nowadays they would be more open to the Blessed CBD oil option, but it doesn’t change how life was back then. I am very thankful for all that I had growing up. Although it was not much, it was enough and I knew I was loved.
