I am grateful—truly, I am. But I have to say this part first for the rest to make sense.
I don’t like November. I dread it every year. Not only is it the start of the busy, forced happy season, it starts with thanksgiving (hereafter referred to as t-giving). I don’t like football (or sports, for that matter); I struggle with the forced frivolity that accompanies a mythologized holiday built on lies and genocide; I intensely dislike turkey; and I firmly believe it’s wrong to tell anyone struggling (financially; emotionally; psychologically) to be grateful for what they have. (The inference being a veiled threat they could, and probably will at some point, have less…so consider yourself lucky.)
This year I’ve drilled down on why November is so uncomfortable for me: t-giving is my brother’s birthday, more often than not on the actual day of his birth. That’s cool, you may say. It’s not. My brother shuffled off this mortal coil when I was 15. Yeah, it was a long time ago, but when November rolls around it all feels fresh and raw. When I’m asked about my family I never know how to answer. I am not an only child, except now I am. It’s like the imaginary friend I had as a kid reappears in perfect clarity, but I’m not supposed to notice or acknowledge his existence, much less wish him a happy birthday with a table full of witnesses. Except my friend wasn’t imaginary—he was my sibling. My only sibling.
I understand that talking about him makes people uncomfortable and that I may even tear up talking about him, which also makes people uncomfortable. But that’s okay. Not talking about him feels like he’s been forgotten or never existed. That’s not okay. That is what truly bothers me.
When I talk about John (he has a name), I may tear up. That’s okay, because it is with gratitude that I remember him. This t-giving, I want to celebrate that he was in my life. I am truly grateful that I had John in my life. I’m a better person for having suffered through his death. I am a better person for having grieved. Without John’s existence and loss, I wouldn’t be who I am today.
I am grateful for family—those with us and those who’ve moved on. But please, allow your family and friends to feel how they feel without judgement. It’s a rough season for a variety of reasons; but, don’t feel like everyone needs to be happy or smiling. Sometimes the gratitude is more profound than words on farmhouse decor.