Thanksgiving, hibachi and lice. Good times!

“Look Mama! A Christmas plant!”

Last week I met with a new friend. She reached out to me after reading this blog. She asked me if there were times, after losing Dad, where joy just was not to be found. After watching all of the episodes of Queer Eye, I can confidently say “yaaaaaaas queen!”. There were so many times were I would try to go out with a friend, or go to a party and just feel like there was this big wall of grief between me and everyone around me. I would be in the same room with friends and family and just feel so lonely. I wanted to talk about death and dying and process the terrible loss. I will tell you what- that kind of talk does not make for fun party banter. I felt broken and small and wished I could wear an emotional hoodie to cover the loss and protect me from what felt like meaningless conversations. Part of me wanted to celebrate and feel “normal” and part of me just wanted to give in and lay on the carpet in the sun.

Trying for some sun in Jersey City. Check out that view though!

I stopped drinking red wine during these times. My brother and I decided that made us too sad. I said no to a lot of things I would have ordinarily said yes to. Holidays felt like lies as we tried to find some tradition that felt like the right thing to do. They felt like approximations of what used to be but left us almost sadder than if we had done nothing. We tried celebrating on different days, we tried being together, we tried not cooking to make it easier or even eating at fancy restaurants. It just was SAD.

I got back to drinking wine, don’t worry. Apparently this wine is from the “blue zone” so it’s practically medicine.

At one point last year my whole family got lice (don’t worry, I have a point with this story and it’s not to gross you out). One particular day I was counting the hours until I could go to the lice removal lady and pay her a paycheck to make the lice go away. I went out for a walk and my neighbor stopped me to tell me how nice my hair looked. Being the verbal vomiter I am, I said “yeah, but it’s full of lice”. Classy, right?

No lice here! Just a classy lady at the Bronx Zoo!

This is how holidays without someone you love are. Your hair might look nice, but that shit is still full of lice. The pie you make might be amazing (I’m going for apple cranberry this year), but that grief is still sitting right there with you. This year we celebrated Thanksgiving at a hibachi place, a week before Thanksgiving. It didn’t feel like Thanksgiving. It felt like family getting together, being loud, dropping ice cream and 4 out of 4 kids needing to poop at the restaurant. It was the best. We talked about Mom, we celebrated a birthday and we just let it be what it was instead of trying to force something else. I know that Thanksgiving day will be hard and I will miss traveling to Connecticut and having a place that feels like “going back home”. But I’m really just trying not to force Thanksgiving back in time into a shape it can no longer be.

I’ve also stopped trying to cook every night. My twice-weekly dinner. We call it “snack party” and everyone loves it.

This year I’m deliberately setting aside time during Thanksgiving weekend to visit Mom, go for a run and cry. And I’ve decided it’s okay to be sad for part of the day: this is likely my last Thanksgiving with a parent and that is really sad. I hope you all find some time also to let this holiday be, to get outside and to remember the people you loved so so much that aren’t eating that pie with you this year.

If I am giving thanks, these three MUST be in here. On our way to a 7:15 AM parent teacher conference. So much love- especially for the tallest one pictured here, who makes everything fun.