With Trepidation & Gratitude this Thanksgiving*

I appreciate the beauty of fall, especially the vibrant red leaves that have always captured my heart. Halloween holds a special place in my memories; I adore the costumes and all the spooky elements associated with it. Pumpkins have a unique charm, and I’m a big fan of pumpkin spice. I genuinely enjoy dressing for the fall season as well.

However, I must admit that I struggle with the colder weather. The time change is tough for me; when the clocks fall back, it suddenly gets dark early, and waking up to a dark morning can be difficult. I have always been more of a spring-summer person—I thrive in warmth and sunlight.

It’s ironic, though, because despite not enjoying school for most of my life, I appreciate it now. However, fall always reminds me that the school year is beginning, while spring brings the anticipation of its end and the joy of summer vacation. Thoughts of beach trips, soaking up the sun, and spending carefree days with friends create a different kind of excitement for me.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more aware of my feelings and the chemical imbalances that contribute to what I now understand as dysthymia or intermittent depression. I also deal with seasonal affective disorder, which complicates things further during this time of year. The winter of 2015 through mid-fall was particularly challenging for me when my mom became seriously ill with lung cancer and ultimately passed away. That loss has profoundly changed the way I view the seasons. Now, my internal clock seems to connect my existing struggles with this significant absence in my life.

Finding joy and gratitude this time of year has become a real challenge. I must consciously work to uncover the silver linings, cultivate happiness, and resist feelings of irritability or sadness. Getting motivated to leave my house and engage with life can be difficult. Yet, I know it’s essential to try, and I’m determined to keep seeking positivity amidst these challenging moments.

Thanksgiving always brings back some of my most treasured memories of family gatherings. I can still feel the warmth of being surrounded by loved ones at my grandma's house. We would come together with my immediate family, aunts, uncles, and cousins, creating an atmosphere of love and laughter. Grandma was the heart of it all, bringing us together.

As the years passed, her partner and his family joined our celebrations, expanding our circle and enriching our experiences. I also cherish the times my dad’s mom and sister could be with us. Those moments meant everything to me, and I know they are memories I will cherish forever.

I remember those carefree days of childhood when we built teepees and forts in the woods. We would go to the movies, bowl, or shop at Rose's. All those simple joys made life so wonderful. Visiting Morganton felt like an escape into the mountains, and we treasured those moments. Sometimes, we ventured further into the hills for long weekends, creating memories that still warmed my heart. It indeed was extraordinary.

Reflecting on my time with my ex holds significant meaning for me. During that first year, we established a series of traditions that became cherished parts of our lives for the next eleven years. One unique tradition was our decision to buy a fake "Christmaskah" bush, our unique twist on a Christmas tree decorated in Hanukkah colors. We eagerly looked forward to visiting the Southern Christmas Show, decorating together, and sharing joyful moments each holiday season.

I truly treasured the times when our families came together for celebrations, sharing joy with my immediate family and my dear aunt and grandmother. Those gatherings remain some of my most valued memories. During those years, I felt a profound sense of completeness, surrounded by love from my bulldogs or my parents and his family's pets. It felt like everything had come full circle, and I believed my future would continue to be filled with warmth and happiness.

Separation can be incredibly challenging, and I truly empathize with anyone going through it. The first year after we parted ways was particularly complicated for me. We ended our relationship just two weeks before the holidays, which added to the emotional weight of the situation. Recognizing the need for support, my best friend and I created a new tradition: after spending time with our families on Thanksgiving, we would go out together to celebrate our single status at a bar.

I still remember that first year apart; it felt especially tough, but having her by my side brought much-needed comfort during that difficult time. Even when I eventually got back together with him, I continued this meaningful tradition with my friend because it became an essential part of my healing journey, and thankfully, he understood how much it meant to me.

During that year, we went to the Touchstone Yellow Rose, where I met Les. He quickly became one of my closest friends, someone I cherished deeply. I also met Nicole, who has significantly impacted my life. I was honored to be her maid of honor at her wedding. Though she moved to the Fort Mill area, we've struggled to keep in touch, especially with everything going on during COVID.

Les played a pivotal role in my life. Our friendship was solid and supportive. He was always there for me, both practically and emotionally. I remember how he helped me move from Stallings in September 2012. He organized everything flawlessly, turning what could have been a chaotic experience into something smooth and manageable.

But everything changed in March 2013. I was on my way to work when I started receiving frantic messages from Nicole and Les's brother. It was alarming, and my heart sank when I returned their calls. They were delivering the devastating news that Les had been found deceased. It turned out he had died by suicide, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had spoken to him three days before, and he seemed perfectly fine. It was shocking that he had never expressed to me that he was struggling, and grappling with that realization has been incredibly difficult.

Halloween holds deep personal significance, yet it remains a lighthearted celebration. It was the first holiday I faced after losing my mom, making it particularly poignant. As Thanksgiving approaches, I feel the weight of grief intensifying, as it was our first family gathering without mom. It’s normal to feel that absence acutely during the holidays, and I know how challenging it can be to navigate those emotions during this time.

I now find it difficult to attend family gatherings. I've put a lot of thought into participating, especially after experiencing many false starts. Friendsgiving has its charm, but with my dad getting older and my niece and nephews growing up, it’s natural to want to cherish these moments together while I can.

I enjoy cooking, but the holiday feels complicated, especially since Christmas isn't part of my celebrations. Hanukkah brings joy to the kids with the gifts, but as we grow older, the excitement can fade a bit for adults.

It's disheartening that Nick came into my life during such a challenging time for me—grieving my mom and dealing with some family tension, especially around the holidays. We've missed opportunities to establish our traditions together over the past five years. We did have one Thanksgiving when I cooked for his family, which was nice, but our time together hasn’t increased. We’ve visited each other’s families a few times, and there was a plan to combine our families one year, but that fell through after a fight.

Part of me wishes we could cultivate some meaningful traditions together. I know it’s not solely his fault; I share the responsibility, too. I often find myself trying to recreate traditions, but all I manage to do is make the food I’ve cooked over the years. Making pecan pies has become a tradition, especially since his dad enjoys them. I also take them to my family; they say they're good, even though I don’t eat them myself.

There’s a sense of needing to figure something out together since we both feel scattered. Last night, we went to my sister’s place with the food I prepared, and today, I will be with my family while he visits his family. Later today, we have Friendsgiving plans, but it’s tough since he’s working and I’m busy with school. I also hoped he would enjoy the Southern Christmas show, but that didn’t work out. Having a Christmas tree isn’t feasible with my cats around; I don’t want to deal with the mess they’d create.

I've been giving a lot of thought to the idea of hosting a 'misfit meal' in the future. I know quite a few friends who are transplants or might feel more at ease spending the holidays with friends rather than family. This could be a beautiful way to connect while honoring our cherished family traditions. I can envision him visiting my family the day before and then celebrating with his family the day after, creating a lovely balance for everyone involved. I just wanted to share these ideas in hopes that expressing them might help us shape something special for all of us.

Decorating has been a challenge since I decided to donate the tree and ornaments when I moved here twelve years ago. This time of year brings a mix of emotions—49% of me wants to stay away and take it easy, while the other 51% urges me to join in. It's challenging to navigate these feelings, especially given the struggles I've faced within my family since we lost mom. I try to be present during these moments, even if they don’t fully understand my perspective.

I know I’m not alone in feeling a complex range of emotions during the spring and summer. While these seasons bring warmth, longer days, and opportunities for joy, they can also remind me of past losses. It’s understandable to associate my birthday in March with cheerful family celebrations, especially when contrasted with the heartache tied to October 24th. I've had so many meaningful experiences growing up in a loving household with my parents and siblings, and it’s heartwarming to know that, despite everything, we've maintained strong bonds.

My family has navigated challenges together without me having to feel their struggles, which speaks volumes about the care and support surrounding me. I hope my mom’s endless empathy and love manifest in these reflections, and it’s clear that her loss weighs heavily on all of us. As my niece and nephews grow up and celebrate milestones, it’s beautiful to see both sides of the family unite, continuing the traditions our parents instilled. My siblings and I are dedicated to recreating cherished family recipes and honoring those connections.

Being welcomed by my sister and her extended family this Thanksgiving demonstrates that love and legacy continue, even as generations change. It’s a beautiful feeling to know we have a place with people who care, and I recognize this with a sense of gratitude.

I’m nearing the finish line of my master’s degree. Some recent health concerns were less severe than I initially feared. Navigating early menopause can be challenging, but I’m grateful for the support I have and for those with whom I can share my experiences. I often wish for my mom's wisdom during this time; those connections can be incredibly comforting. I appreciate the comforts in my life—a warm home, a caring partner, and my six playful cats—which reflect a grounded sense of gratitude.

It’s touching to feel the bond I share with my niece and nephews, especially given my preference for furry children. My family, partner, and book club are invaluable sources of support, providing wisdom and encouragement when needed. I sincerely appreciate their presence in my life, and I hope they feel my desire to reciprocate.

It’s natural to wish things had unfolded differently over the past few years. I carry many hopes and aspirations, and it's understandable to feel the weight of those unmet goals. However, recognizing how far I have come and seeing the finish line is a testament to my efforts to find the silver lining. I have a lot of love and strength surrounding me as I continue my journey.

I want to take a moment to honor my mom, my grandparents, and my dear friends who are no longer with me. They meant the world to me, and today, I especially remember Les fondly. This post is also for those friends I haven't been able to connect with as much as I'd like. Life sometimes takes us in different directions, and while some of us may have moved on, I will always cherish the memories we created together. I’m thinking of Jenny and Indy and want to dedicate this post to them too.

Additionally, I want to remember all the beloved fur babies I've loved and lost—especially Pippa, who will be gone a year on December 9th. Please keep Seymour in mind, too; he seems stable now but has had quite an arduous journey since June.

As we look ahead, I am hopeful for a brighter future in the coming years. Here’s to embracing the moments of joy that outweigh the challenges and creating a life filled with more good times than tough ones.