I always spent Thanksgiving with Granny. Or Boyband and the Family of babies and friends we made together.
And so this year, just like last but for very different painful reasons, I will abstain.
This year giving anything more than what has already been taken from me doesn't sound all that celebratory.
Please hold. My phone ringeth (it actually barketh, which makes me laugh ever time). /whispers with hand over receiver/ It's my boss/mentor/maybe business partner. Just a sec." /holds up index finger and mouths sorry/
After I hung up, I thought about the contents of my restaurant emergency pack: the keys to the joint, the company debit card, $900 in back up cash for the till and a list of tasks and responsibilities that I have almost entirely met, save for the salty bourbon pecan pie I need to make for a guest's Thanksgiving feast after I hang up on you jokers. Her job. I am doing her job; owning a restaurant.
"Hey, I just wanted to tell you thanks again for keeping an eye on the restaurant for me while I'm on the East Coast visiting my grandmother for Thanksgiving. It's been an amazing trip and I never would have been able to relax if you weren't there keeping the Cajun taco afloat."
"No sweat, yo. Foo and Bub want jobs, though. I told them to drop their resumes with the manager on duty."
"I'm serious. The staff respect you. Your suggestions are amazing. You've already done so much. We love you. Thank you."
"Giving me something to be proud of myself about for a change is thanks enough."
"You're nuts. But I am really glad you're there. I miss you."
"Gross. I miss you, too."
I've been working on an epic post that's taken me three days to write. It never takes me more than an hour on the long end to drool any of this drivel, but I have had to stop for hours at a time to simply compose myself, rehydrate, and clear my mind of the mist. It's deep, it's intense, it's everywhere, it's heartbreaking, and it's the truth all at once. It is the sum of all my parts, past and present, but most of all future. I will post it end of Thanksgivingish tomorrow. I don't know where or what doing I will spend the day tomorrow, but I know it will be spent with someone I can be proud of. Besides my children, that is. They will be with The Manny and a former fan of the Bite My Cookie era. Yep, he's spending TG with a blog reader (along with her husband and kids -- all of whom were unbeknownst to either of us prior to BMC) of mine when mine was still ours. Raise your glass of lemonade and say it with me: "To irony!"
In the meantime, while you are bouncing in between potato peeling and turkey brining, please share your thanksgiving with me. But let's do it my way. Tell me, my babies:
What makes you most proud of yourself right now?
Give thanks to you.
Give thanks to you.
I'll go first:
I am proud that I am still standing here. I am proud of my children who love me and I them in a way that I am sure Granny and I and you only know. I am proud that I have not cried more than a thousand times over the death of Boyband. I am proud that I have carved out a little bitty home for my redacted family and that we are happy together. I am proud that I have been able to remember myself when my heart is brokenest. I am proud that I have something exciting in my life to look forward to that looks and smells and tastes just like a real-live restaurant. I am proud that somebody I admire and respect wants me to work with her and trusts me even when I don't trust myself. I am proud that Granny would be proud of me. I am proud of my burgeoning new life. I am proud of not fearing change, as much as it may hurt to face in the face. I am proud to learn that I truly am a wonderful mother, I gave my marriage everything I had even though it wasn't enough, and that no matter what happens to me for better or for worse, I am strong enough to withstand it. And I am extremely proud that no matter how many of you are still here hanging on (one of the primary tenets of Keep(ing) it Comical is to say fuck stats and reader tracking), you're here. I'm not alone. And neither are you. And for whatever that's worth, I'm proud of it.