On Thursday, November 25th, we all join hands around the turkey declaring everything that we are thankful for. Family, friends, health among other things. We sit around the table and pray to whatever god we believe in (or pretend to pray if you’re like me). We laugh and chatter with family members we see, only every so often, and take Thanksgiving selfies and group photos for social media. It is on this one day, that across the United States we as a people give thanks.
But to me, it is a heartbreaking holiday.
November marks the one year anniversary my mother stood before a judge and said she didn’t want me and my sisters. I know that the real reason was because she couldn’t take care of us properly, but it hurts nonetheless. The court granted my mother permission to see my siblings and I once a month, though she can’t ever seem to make those visits.
I wish I could be more positive, put on a smile and say that I’m just thankful to have a roof over my head (which I am). Thanksgiving is a lonely holiday for me. My family is physically distanced from me and my foster mom is emotionally distant. I would have loved to have had a Friendsgiving dinner, but that requires friends. Instead, I spend thanksgiving among strangers. I sit and I eat and I politely thank the cook. Even though there’s no pecan pie, even though the macaroni and cheese is different, even though the candied yams don’t taste the way that my best friend’s mom used to make it.
The day comes and goes and I forget the purpose of the holiday (the modern purpose not the let’s-celebrate-the-genocide-of-indigenous-peoples purpose). To be thankful, to spend time with family and take a break.
Even now, try as I may, it is hard to find things to be thankful for.
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