...and it's only Thanksgiving...

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I will be home for Christmas, and in therapy for New Year's - and it's only Thanksgiving...

Happy Thanksgiving ya'll.

I am really thankful for my fiance. We have dated for almost four years, and are getting married in exactly fifty days. I am very thankful for that! We aren't ready for the event yet, but we are definitely ready to be married.

I am thankful for my wonderful host family - who are some of my best friends. Their wisdom and light keep me from falling into my own despair.

I am thankful for the church family that I will be a part of when I move to Georgia. The vastness of their kindness has already washed over me - and I haven't actually joined with them yet.

It's sprinkling rain right now, and considering the wildfires of Western NC, I am very grateful for any and all moisture that touched the earth.

I could keep writing for pages about all of the things for which I am thankful, and yet I find it so difficult to stay happy during the holiday seasons.

This is the first round of holidays missing three grandparents and dealing with my parents divorce.

Now I have never done well going 'home.'

My mom, in her manic depressive, emotional stability of a seven-year old, manipulative, and 'if-it-doesn't-benefit-me-then-I-hate-it' self eats at my very soul. As an infant I loved her; as a small child I couldn't stand her; as a teenager I wouldn't speak to her; and as an adult, I attempt to have an adult relationship with her - to no avail.

My dad is somewhere between finally tasting freedom and severely depressed from the divorce. He lives in a rundown trailer with the two children. One child is emotionally underdeveloped and still wets the bed (I sleep with her) and the other is a seventeen year-old man who is invincible, with the only possible exception being that he rolled his truck down a bank yesterday. He's okay, That is a big 'thankful.'

But my family loves me (with the possibly of my mom who doesn't truly love anything in my opinion) and they are always very grateful when I come home for the holidays.

However.

I drive into this town and my chest gets tight. I see so many places that bring back memories of frustration, regret, abandonment, and entrapment.

My father's marriage advice is soaked in resentful divorce. I have forgotten how to sift for the truth.

I feel disconnected from my eldest brother and his wife. I feel a canyon of differences between us and wonder if they believe that I strayed for the worse. I have forgotten how to build bridges,

My family reeks of chaos, disorder, dysfunction, and judgement. But I have forgotten how to smell the flowers.

I spend my entire holidays pleasing the broken crowd. I need to see mom and dad but not at the same time, so I schedule multiple events. Mom nor dad speak to my mother's mother, so I must plan to visit her as well. I must take my youngest sister shopping for our mother because no one else is on speaking terms with our mother, and I do not plan on returning before Christmas.

I resent dancing through hoops and spending my holiday vacation as an ungraceful circus bear. There is nothing relaxing or refreshing about that.

The only time I ever doubt my relationship with my fiancé is when I go to my hometown. If it is possible to be more disconnected from my family than I, he is. My family's idea of great conversation is admiring 'souped up rigs,' debating hunting strategies, yelling at college football, and listening to strange music. None of which can the the man that love significantly contribute to, nor does he particularly enjoy the topic. My family is very good at talking 'at' people instead of to them.

Anyway. I am two days in, with two to go.

So as my family awakes, I will try harder to smell the flowers, sift for the truth, and all that other crap.

Just try harder. It's always my strategy.

Kind Father, please remind me of You.

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