The Turkey Cometh

Thanksgiving is just around the corner. ‘Turkey Day’ as some of us like to call it. So what does that mean? It means we stuff our faces into a borderline coma while thanking God, the Universe, our lucky stars, or whatever means something to us for our good fortune to be able to do so. 

But it means something else too. Something many people dread having to deal with. And I’m not talking about the post-meal BM from eating expired cranberry sauce, or having to decide between the light or dark meat. 

I’m talking about having to deal with family. For many, family gatherings are a time of anxiety, arguments, and annoyance. It’s not saying what you mean and politics and walking on eggshells and putting up with the people you’ve spent the entire first third of your life trying to escape. 

But it doesn’t have to be like that. 

My grandmother was the glue that held everyone together in my family on my mother’s side, and when she passed that fell to my mom. Then we lost her in 2013 to a years-long grueling bout with cancer. After that, my Mom’s side of the family kinda stopped hanging out. I don’t think it helps that I’m politically the black sheep of the family. At least I’m pretty sure I am. A few members stay in touch but we’re spread all over the United States now, so even if we wanted to, getting together would be a huge hassle for everyone involved. 

I never knew my biological grandparents on my Dad's side. My biological grandmother was a first-generation French woman, who married my Grandfather, a merchant marine who died at 55 from heart failure. I never got to meet either of them, not at an age where I could remember them, anyway. Both were alcoholics who at least had the presence of mind to know they couldn’t adequately raise a kid. 

I call my father’s adopted mother Grandma. She’s passed now as well, and while I’m still in touch with that side of the family as well, we don’t see each other anywhere near as much as I would like. 

I’m also the oldest of four brothers. Right now the second oldest lives about an hour away and we don’t always see eye to eye, so we don’t talk as much as we used to. The next youngest brother lives in Colorado with his wife, and I’m lucky if I can catch them to play video games online since our schedules rarely match up. 

Our youngest brother is a New York City firefighter. The FDNY. We’re all super proud of him, not just because he’s basically among the Navy Seals of the Emergency Services, but because he made it in there while dealing with being dyslexic as well. He and his wife have just brought home their first son, making me an Uncle. Hopefully, I’ll see them at Thanksgiving, if everything works out.

All this is to say that my family doesn’t do the real big family get-togethers that we used to do when my grandmothers were still alive. And I don’t think it would feel the same if we did. My wife and I will probably spend Thanksgiving with my Dad and Stepmother, and she always knocks it out of the park with the cooking. But it’s always a much smaller affair than it used to be. 

I don’t regret that. In fact, I’m kind of thankful for it. I’m not sure I’d be getting ready to release my first book today if I was still surrounded by family all the time. Or if I were, it would be a different book entirely. 

Instead, being apart from my family has allowed me to discover who I truly am, rather than trying to satisfy my family's expectations. Almost everyone does it, even if we don’t realize it. We all want our families to love us and we equate making them happy with that love. 

These days I have different people in my life that I include in my family circle. People who have influenced me in ways they may never know. Some of them are old Navy buddies, some are friends I’ve stayed in touch with since junior high, and some are more recent friends, who I may not have known as long, but they mean the world to me nonetheless. They helped me find and become the best version of myself. 

I am thankful for these folks. They are my found family, and it’s one of the reasons I’ve written that trope into my book. Blood doesn’t mean family. Love means family. *in my best Stitch voice* “And Family means no one gets left behind.” You all know who you are. Hugs all around. 

I have been very lucky. I have an excellent immediate/extended family, and an amazing found family as well. I’m thankful for them all. But I know not everyone has what I do.

This holiday, I encourage you to spend time with the people who help you be the best version of yourself. We can’t always get away from the ones that annoy us, argue with us, or worse, abuse us, —get away from that last one, please— but devote time figuring out who your found family is, spend time with them, and show them just how thankful you are that they are in your life today. 

Happy Thanksgiving, gobble gobble!