Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a bittersweet holiday for me. I know you're probably thinking that I'm rude for complaining but I'm not complaining...much. The sweet part of it is a relatively recent innovation. For the longest time, I thought it was the most pointless of all the holidays and that was back when people made a big deal of Columbus Day. Melissa made the difference, of course. She pointed out to me that Thanksgiving didn't have to be terrible. I didn't have to meet certain standards for her to love me because she just did. I was a little embarrassed at the idea of stealing her family but it just struck me - and I mean just now as I'm writing this - that I wasn't trying to steal them away from her. I just wanted to be included.

I wanted to be included and they wanted to include me. What a concept! The bitter part of Thanksgiving and the other holidays is that I have such vivid memories of being unwanted. Depending on how angry the concept makes them, the family I was born with might accuse me of being delusional or they might be angry enough to have given up completely. I hope it's the latter personally. It's very easy for them to make the case that I was wanted. After all, they never once failed to invite me to Thanksgiving dinner when I was living with them! After I was finished raking the leaves and cutting the grass, I was perfectly welcome to dress exactly the way they wanted and then have them watch every bite that I ate as if they expected the inevitable weight gain to be visible immediately.

It was either Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner when I was introduced to how most of my fellow Americans do that particular holiday. It might have been both but the important feature was the fact that Melissa and I were invited to have dinner with Linda and Doug Frey and their family. It was wonderful. We all ate in front of the TV watching football and no one gave me too much of a hard time about my Dallas Cowboys. We probably lost the game if I'm thinking of the right year but that was forgotten in a pleasant buzz of food, drink and pleasant conversation.

It's not very important to me that I get this placed exactly in time but I remember being very tired that day to the point of not wanting to go out. I don't think that I was sick with Chiari yet. It was probably a good, old fashioned tired feeling from working too much. Yes, I think I wrestled with the boys both against me at the same time. It's been a long time for sure since I think both "boys" are about seven feet tall these days. After eating, I remember napping for a while along with almost everyone else. The only thing wrong was that I was hungry again and I didn't want to look like a pig twice.

Melissa led me to the kitchen where almost everyone had reconvened to demolish more food. To me, this was living like a sultan.

I'm not sure that I've ever gotten to enjoy a Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner with my New York family. What I do know for sure is that I am most thankful of all for the fact that I got to have this life and love with Melissa. We were sitting downstairs not really together and doing different things when I realized something. There's a different feeling in the air when she's in the same room with me. We don't have to be doing the same thing. I first noticed this when we were still learning to live together at the apartment. I was reading one book and she was reading another when I told her how much more fun everything is when she is with me. It was just an out of the blue remark that holds true today almost 20 years later. She just brightens up the room.

I am exceptionally thankful for my three cats even when they demand that I sit absolutely still or go to sleep so that they can use me as a stable napping platform. Before the kittens (my babies will always be babies), there were hours upon hours that I spent utterly alone. They must be on the bed together because they have permitted me use of the computer without any complaining. Don't tell her I said this but Madeline's food alarm clock is one of the main things that helps me note the passage of time. I just wish she would pick a method of telling me she's hungry that doesn't involve stepping on painful places. (You only think I made a dirty joke. I hurt all over. *grin*)

I'm not ecstatic that Melissa has to work today but she loves her job most days. I love seeing how good she is at it. She makes enough money for us to get by when combined with my disability pay. It bothers me that I can't work and so she must work but we've learned to accept that as a given in life. If that's a given, we should and do make the best of it. She has her space and I have mine. I get to write and pursue my dreams along those lines. If you had told the teenage me that I would have dozens of regular readers, I'd have been in orbit. Now I know that's unremarkable compared to the top names in the field but it's good for me.

And I need to lie down ASAP so I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving. Also wish healing for those affected by violence. My PTSD isn't from brain surgery so I feel for you. I wish you the best and my thoughts are with you.