Giving Thanks

We are not huge on the holidays in my family, as growing up in a divorced household, we had four Christmases sometimes (one at mom's, one at dad's, one at dad's girlfriend's, one at the grandparents) which might seem great, but was really just a super long, exhausting day. Worse for my sister, I would imagine, as she had to hear me tell the same stories over and over again to different rapt audiences - which I couldn't get enough of, of course - so that to this day, if I repeat myself, she either leaves the room or interrupts with an abrupt, "Yeah, you already told me that. Like three other times."

The other reason the holidays have never been a huge to-do for us had much to do with the fact my mom was a single mother for so long, with little money, time or energy to put together a huge meal and/or decorations. She tried for years to make up for this, spending too many hours many years cooking for an audience of two who couldn't appreciate her culinary talents, while trying valiantly to put up the Christmas tree without at some point, bursting into tears. Imagine my mid-30s mother and my sister and me, 6 and 9 respectively, trying to: A. Get the tree into the stand and B. Trying to get the fucking thing to stand up straight. It was a nightmare from start to finish, complete with splinters in our fingers and pitch in our hair.

As we got older, Ma said, "Fuck it" to the pressure and traditions, and we often went out for Thanksgiving dinner or ordered in Chinese on Christmas Eve. With all of us living in Portland for the past five years, we've started up some traditions again (although Ma refuses to get a tree, something she banned in the early 90s, because as she said, "Nobody really gives a shit, do they?") but around Thanksgiving, Ma, my sister and I would search for recipes in Gourmet, Sunset and the like weeks ahead of time, and design a kickass menu. Then, after going to yoga in the morning on Thanksgiving day, the three of us would cook all day together.

This year is different in so many ways, obviously, as Ma can no longer cook or do yoga, and we are all a little strung out from the events of the last few months to slave for several days over the stove. This year, too, I'm leaving town to go see my lovely Matt in San Francisco. We are putting together the works of a Thanksgiving dinner for two, which I am dorkily excited about. (I'm even smuggling a pecan pie on the plane for him, his favorite. I am becoming so domestic as of late, sometimes I don't recognize myself. This is, surprisingly, not a bad thing. Post to follow on that topic later.) Given all of these circumstances, Ma decided to order cater in the whole shebang from New Seasons, which she has been telling everyone amounts to about $100 for dinner for 7 or so.

And I guess that brings me to what I have to give thanks for right this second, as I look at how our traditions have devolved and evolved over the years, mainly the amazing way my family has been able to stretch and change and grow around the things that have been thrown at us over the years - from divorce to cancer to death and cancer again. We seem to be able to pick up the pieces and reform them in a way that we are able to leave the past and our old selves behind and move forward, and for that that I am forever grateful. This kind of room for growth allows a space in which we can all keep moving towards the best version of ourselves. It is also the kind of space that allows for my mother to be beside herself with joy that I'm cooking Thanksgiving dinner with my boyfriend this year, even if it means being away from home and from her. For that kind of grace and love, I will be thankful today, tomorrow and every day after.