thanksgiving is the fourth thursday in november

I didn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to cook the turkey today. Perhaps I am more of a traditionalist that I will admit. But that is entirely it either.

If I am going to admit something, then I should confess that I feel like I am drowning. And this really makes no sense as I really have no pressure being put on me, beyond the pressure I put on myself, of course.

There will be no family or friends coming to dinner tomorrow. There is no one to impress or worry about. This should be easy, but it isn't.

I hate to say it, but I think I am becoming one of those people who hates the holidays. I hate that they remind me of my losses, and what I will never have. Of course some will argue that I never had it to begin with, and really I should just get over myself already.

But when at every turn it seems there are images and sounds telling you how things should be and they aren't, tell me it wouldn't drive you mad. And yes, a part of me is very, very angry, although I am talking more about madness in that last sentence than anger.

That first Thanksgiving after my mom died, as crazy as it sounds, I kept hoping the phone would ring. My logical side knew that it would never happen, but that hopeful part held out and kept thinking that nothing is impossible.

This grief will never go away. I get that. But it seems to build at this time of the year. It reminds me of the abomination of my family and mocks me. You see, one of my big issues was that I never felt wanted and now somehow here I am without them. And the lingering question of why does battle with me every day.

Tomorrow I will get up and make a turkey. The stuffing is my grandmother's recipe. One that was never written down, and could only be learned by watching and practice. I will reflect on all that I am grateful for as I busy myself in the kitchen, and try not to let this grief get the better of me.






on the night stand :: Martha Stewart Living Cookbook : The Original Classics