Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving.

A day traditionally celebrated with family and too many courses of food.

A day often layered in obligation for many. A calendar reminder of loss, pain or difficulty. Dealing with drama or forced time with difficult family ties, fights deciding who gets which holiday year after year. Unwelcome reminders of loved ones who’ve gone missing from the table their shadow painting grief instead of joy surrounds the entire table. For some it’s simply not having a table or an invitation to a meal with loved one’s, but the desperate terror of feeling like an unwanted orphan. Or perhaps feeling left out and ostracized from a holiday focused on food that is supposed to be nourishing, but rather equals poisoning due to severe food allergies.

Thanksgiving, a single day with so much power to destroy and take away from the point, is there really thanks given in such a obligated tradition?

I have a table that’s often filled throughout the year with conversation. Friends come over to celebrate, play games, eat nachos and sometimes drink a night away. Other times a single friend or four align a calendar date to sit outside upon the lawn and watch the sun go down. On a Monday or a Wednesday, with monthly Saturdays, I find my life content with friends and a sense of belonging. Sometimes out of towners visit and share a meal or a game of cards. Sitting round the table catching up on micro changes, simply sharing a moment so quickly gone from present to remember when. Family and friends have stayed a night inside my purple guestroom, staying up late to talk through the night wearing our jammies, and other times staying for long, long stretches of time layered up with worry.

I have a home that falls apart and seems to steal all my money. Fixing this and fixing that, man how I wish I was handy. A house to call my home is sometimes a lot more than I bargained for, trying to manage all alone. The pain that it is, and stress that it causes often steals away my joy. I forget to live content with this place I get to call my own. A place where I’ve spent more than a few holidays alone.

I used to have a holiday full of family. The table set for so many, with stuffing, potatoes and a giant sized Turkey. Going round the table one at a time proclaiming something we were thankful for was how we marked thanks giving. The chatter, the laughter, the wine poured out at dinner, the dessert cut up and dished out with no room left to eat it. To the couch we’d all fall out lying in a heap, telling stories of the past or watching football, to playing games like taboo on teams or simply just sleeping. Family was this thing of joy and celebration, and a happy obligation.

Years roll on and life plays games and suddenly people go missing. The table less filled from those who’ve passed on or have moved across the nation. Seperation played its game and holidays don’t feel the same, pressed now with obligation to fill the time and make it breathe like it did before. But how can it sing a song long gone that’s now owned by the past.

Instead of looking so hard at a day and playing comparison, I’ve tried really hard to look away and see the bigger picture. Thanks giving is giving thanks for all the things in my life, not looking for what is missing. Not a single day of thanks that’s forced to feel special because it’s name is holiday, but rather a matter of the heart as a reflection that last for a stretch of time longer than a single day.

I’m thankful for the house I have made into a home, despite financial adversity. A place I’ve filled over time with true intentions of belonging, comfort and inviting. For those who need to have a home for a night or for weeks on end. A place of love that’s welcoming for those I love to unburden themselves with silence, presence, hugs, tears, laughter or simply real conversation.

I’m thankful that most nights I spend here in the quiet, reflecting and content, thankful also for the nights that hurt from the absence of anothers presence.

On a single day like today, overdressed in fancy attire, this holiday has set my table for friendship to share preparing a meal that lasts less than the day. But no matter the plans on a single day I have thanks to give for this life I live. Thankfulness for friends new and old who have left imprints on my heart, living near or far with family who’ve tred along life with me. Thanks to give for the loved ones I’ve lost, their absense filled by memories that shaped so much of my life. Thankful for a home to fill with friends and events throughout the year, and the reminder of perspective that a life is lived throughout the year with moments of feeling belonging, love and friendship on all the boring regular days, so that I’ve something to say to all my friends on a special holiday. I’m thankful for you and your friendship in my life today and every day.