Thursday, November 24, 2011

Poor. Pitiful. Me. A Thanksgiving Post.

Poor. Pitiful. Me.

I often write blog posts in my head. It's a shame I can't telepathically send them to "Draft" mode. Earlier this week I had a good one cookin' as I drove to school. I was cranky and irritated and had worked myself up. You see, my parents divorced when I was 18. And though the first few years were a little rough, it was a pretty easy transition to being a 'divorced kid' (although technically I was an adult).

Until the holidays roll around. And then being a 'divorced kid' sucks hard, no matter how old I am. Surprise, surprise. Thirty isn't any different.

Christmas is pretty easy. Most of the events are set in stone now, so there's a little negotiating on issues such as five vs. six p.m., nothing major.

But Thanksgiving. Ugh. Thanksgiving is a hassle. Every. Single. Year. Everyone's dinners get pushed together, we're rushed from one house to the next, and we feel obligated to eat at every meal (although not this year). And the worst? The worst is missing out on actual conversation with family members that I haven't seen in a while, which is pretty much what it's all about.

Usually the Monday or Tuesday beforehand, Ryan and I swear we're going out of town the next year.

So here I am, all day Monday, alone with my cranky thoughts about how frustrating it is to try and make everyone happy. Petty things throughout the day add to my foul mood, and I'm good and worked up to write my blog that night. But for some reason, I don't.

And the next morning I have a text from my best friend, who's on vacation with her mom and her sister. A vacation that comes just weeks after her father's death. They've air-lifted her mother to a hospital and by Wednesday morning, the word 'cancer.' They're 2,000 miles from home.

Poor. Pitiful. Me.

I wrote this in my comfy home with my husband and daughter. I was surrounded on Thanksgiving Day by happy, healthy family members. People that I love, some of whom I didn't have until my parents remarried and now I couldn't live without. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday crying for a hurting friend and wishing I'd been put in my place by some lesser means. How incredibly selfish I can be at times.

I am thankful for so many things, endless things, and among them — that I didn't publish the earlier post.

I spent Thanksgiving Day enjoying the day with my family. It was crazy and hectic but I didn't let it bother me. And throughout the day I crafted a new blog, this one making its way to the screen.

Happy. Blessed. Me.



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

We are lucky if we can experience empathy for those around us. Sharing your friend's pain is a very hard thing. I think it is much harder when people have shut themselves out so much so they will be protected from this pain I sense in your words that you feel and love deeply. That is a hard thing to do, but you will be a much better person for it. We all need to stop more and be thankful. You are blessed to realize this, some never seem to get it, no matter the age! Prayers sent for your dear friend and her family.