Broken and Thankful

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and we all have a lot to be thankful for. I epically was thankful for the people who have surrounded me and loved me platonically in the last year. My life has changed dramatically over the year and I’m often faced with who I thought I was pitted against who I am. In these battles various people have come along side me helped guide me along the way. I have to say, their support is sometimes lost along the path. I will gain encouragement and wise advice from them but I often find myself at home alone wallowing in my bed fretting over my worries rather than doing something about them. I feel ashamed at times, taking the support of my friends, because I know it will be wasted, it will be dropped on the main road out, and they will see it as they travel down the road and see their parcel of advice broken on the side of the road.

Suspending all my troubles, I was able to celebrate a beautiful Thanksgiving holiday with a family who’s parcels of support often end on the side of the road, but never forgotten. I was asked to join them in their family gathering of singing and togetherness. When I walked in it was warm and you could smell the turkey when you entered into their mud room. I was first introduced to my friend’s brother whose house it was. Following him was the vast names and faces of the family, which I cannot remember. As I made my way around the house some of the names stuck, because they were similar to mine or because we were introduced five plus times, and other names became similar to those parcels fallen off on the road.

When everyone was introduced I was kind of standing there with nothing to do. The grandfather who shares the same name as me was making his way into the room which they called “the yellow room”. It was suggested that I maybe “papa sit” for a while. I did and rather enjoyed it. The fellow whose name I share was very friendly and talkative. I felt so comfortable in the presence of this old man. Almost as if he was my grandfather. We shared in conversation touching on literature and life. We spoke a little of my separation and about his new book. I was inspired by the perseverance of him to get this work done. He spoke of the time to write it and the process of getting it done. I thought to myself about the rush I have in my life to see change or something accomplished. Where things take years to become beautiful, I or we, often forget that diamonds are made by being pressed by fierce force over centuries in dark places. It is only when they are brought into the light after years of darkness do they shine so bright. This man’s book is his diamond and his life is that period of being pressed into perfection.

From there the traditional holiday events occurred. During the dinner the conversation became more of a creative writing workshop. And I was again inspired by the perseverance of getting their work accomplished. After the warm dinner the pie came out and the conversations grew to wine and the civil service that I will be doing in my new part-time position. The day grew late and my body grew tired. The warmth and love of this family comforted me greatly, and my body was in need of a rest.

After I left the graces of this perfect evening I received a call from an acquaintance or a mutual friend that I share with the friend who was the best man in my wedding. She was home alone with her seven month old baby, no dinner and no festivities to celebrate the holiday. Her desire was company and conversation. My heart broke and I couldn’t say no. There I was enjoying the comfort of what was probably the most Americana holiday I have ever experienced, and there she is, a broken woman who just wants a friend. So instead of heading home to sleep off the tryptophan, I turned around and headed to her house. When I entered in I saw a perfect modern home with all the fixings of a single mom. Everything was new, kids toys scattered around but clean. All the walls were white and nothing was on the wall. This place was nice but was completely opposite of the home I just went to. The home spoke of her, it said it was alone and forgotten.

After I was invited in I was introduced to her son who is named after a great hunter whom was placed in the winter sky. His eyes never left mine and his smile stretched from ear to ear. After I was made comfortable we began to share small stories of how our day was. I told her about the meal and the company of what was probably one of my most memorable Thanksgiving s, and when doing so I saw the sadness on her face. The mood became awkward and I felt sad for her. Here I am a man with nothing, who just experienced one of the best things in the world, and there she’s, a woman who can have anything she wants, being lonely and spending the holiday with a being who can only coo and cry. I sat for a while and waited for her to spark a conversation but the experience I believe was awkward for the both of us. So to end the long pause, I began asking vague questions probing to find out why she is alone on this day when we should be gathered together giving thanks for what we have. I heard her broken story, of being moved from home to home as a child, her dealing with multiple sclerosis, and her ex-husbands and their crazy family dynamics. I heard about her past working at a night club, and how when she cut her hair she lost her clients, about her past relationship and how her books were taken away by her husband because they took her focus off of him. I didn’t know what to say. My heart broke for her. I tried to talk to her about why these things happened and she didn’t really have any answer to how it came to be just that it’s always been like that. I couldn’t offer any words of encouragement to her. She seemed pleased with her life as if she was happy on the outside. I could see this smile that screamed help me. My tongue was stopped because I felt that anything I said would be deflected with a false assurance that she was ok. My mouth fell quiet and my heart began to hurt.

I left that house thinking about everyone in the world on this day. It’s the holidays that make us think of other people less fortunate than ourselves, but what about the people who have it together on the outside? The people who can pay their bills, the people who have a nice television, who have a decent respectable car, who don’t have anyone to share a meal with, who don’t have the peace and comfort of friends walking alongside them to give them parcels of advice and support. I began to wonder how many other men and women were at home on Thanksgiving, alone watching television, getting drunk, working, forgetting taking the time to connect with family and treating it as another day. A day to forget, a day to pass by just as any other day would. I drove home and prayed for people like my friend. I gave thanks for my family: who came to my aid in a time of need, for my friends: who offer support even though it may fall along the path, for my children: who are just awesome, and my wife: for the good years and the unintended lessons I’m learning though everything we shared.

If you’re reading this I ask you to think about people this holiday season. Think about someone who needs, not wants, someone who had their world torn apart, someone who is in need of support and can’t get a grip on their finances or addiction, and someone who has everything they want but no one to share it with. I want you to think about love. We can buy everything we want, we can soak ourselves in all our passions, but we don’t have love when we make things happen for ourselves. It is just a simulated soothing of one self. But try real love. John Mayer, explains it standing in front of 7,000 people in L.A. as a love that isn’t a “roman candle firework, Hollywood, hot pink love, but a ‘I got your back love!’” Think about the people who love and who you tell you love. Remember them, remember you love them and remember to act like it. Remember you told them you love them, and have their back when. I promise you this love is more rewarding than anything you can buy and builds a friendship that can stand forever.

Don’t get discouraged when you see pieces of your love trampled on the side of the road. Keep loving and know that those are only a few parcels that may of fallen off but there are still more being carried.

I think of the one love that will keep us forever and that is the love of God. I do not have the best relationship with God at this time and my love for him is not great. But I know his love for me is greater and stronger than I could ever love anyone. I hold onto that and hope to love others because I am loved and I pray for mercy and forgiveness when I don’t.

God bless you all and be safe this holiday season.