Back when I wrote Starrtrippin', I used to write a blog every Thanksgiving where I listed the things I was thankful for. Not, like, the obvious stuff-- kids, marriage, blah blah blah, but the important stuff, like tank tops with built-in bras. Then I kinda quit writing it. Then I kinda quit writing, period. But I have something to say this Thanksgiving.
This Thanksgiving marks ten years since I last had a Thanksgiving with my Dad. That is pretty difficult for me to wrap my head around. Time has passed so quickly, but also so slowly. At my Dad's last Thanksgiving, I had known for about twelve hours that he was NOT going to get better, and that my time with him was ticking, ticking. At my Dad's last Thanksgiving, he could eat nothing we cooked, because the tumor in his throat kept him in too much pain to swallow. At my Dad's last Thanksgiving, we all tried really hard, but in the end the only way I could get through the day was to drink my fucking body weight in vodka.
So I did. He didn't know. He wasn't really lucid anymore.
Thanksgiving has always been hard since then. For about five years, every Thanksgiving I would email the oncologist at Vanderbilt who called me the night before the holiday and told me, very coldly and clinically, that my Dad was going to die soon. I would tell him in my email how much I hurt, and what a dick he was for having such a shitty bedside manner. After a while, he and I got to know each other a little bit and I learned that, while his bedside manner truly was shitty, he really was sorry there was nothing he could do. I learned that his Dad was dying of cancer as well, and passed the October after my Dad died. Human connection eased the sting a bit. We still email from time to time.
Today, after these ten long years, B and I were driving down Riverwatch Parkway and I saw three different churches that had signs up about "Remember to thank God this Thanksgiving" and "Thank you, God" sermons, and it pissed me the fuck off. You know why? Because I don't even go to church. I do not much care for organized religion. But I still thank God for the things I am grateful for every fucking day. In the morning, I pray. At night, I pray. Oftentimes, in the middle of the day, I pray. When I'm in the sauna at the gym, that's what I'm doing while I lie there, I'm praying. If I'm in line somewhere, I'm often praying. And when I pray, I don't ask for anything. All I do is thank God, whoever or whatever he is, that I have my children and my husband and we're healthy and we have what we need and that I'm so so so so so fucking lucky every minute. Because I know I am. Even if my Dad is gone. Even if things suck sometimes. Even Even Even. It doesn't matter, I'm fucking lucky.
I don't NEED a sign. I don't NEED a reminder. I don't NEED a fucking holiday to take a break and remember to be thankful. And I hope you don't either.
Happy Thanksgiving.
