The Ghost of Thanksgivings Past

As I sit here circa 8pm on Thanksgiving evening of 2014, I contemplate holidays past and history that I didn’t even exist in as of yet. I’m buzzed off of Gernacha/Syrah blends from Spain, Lambrusco from Italy and Pinot Noir from California’s Central Coast and in a slight food coma from the feast I began cooking mid afternoon that consisted of green bean casserole, roasted balsamic cauliflower, lemon/garlic/pepper chicken and tilapia among a couple other dishes. My famous pumpkin pie followed up this feast.

I think about what I was doing on Thanksgivings past and with whom I was sharing delicious food and beverage with and that crazy, inevitable aspect of life called change. God, I feel like I’ve lived several lives with the changes I have experienced. Two years ago, I was in my Brooklyn apartment celebrating with my husband and a close friend from Italy who has never celebrated this American holiday and last year, I was celebrating with my sister, Sandy, and her loving Mexican familia in a Los Angeles suburb. The circumstances and changes that led to each of these holidays are a blog or two of their own but the point is that life certainly is beautiful when the positive is what is focused upon.

This year, I am in the midst of a drawn out divorce, my friend is thousands of miles away in northern Italy, my sister, Sandy is still celebrating with her beautiful fam and I’m in love with a wonderful man who joined me in the kitchen assisting me with tonight’s feast. We later sat on the living room floor of my lovely Los Angeles apartment to ingest and enjoy our hard work.

I don’t want to bore you any longer with the mundane details of my Thanksgivings but to point out that change is good. The only time in my life where I still have yet to view it as “good” or having some sort of “reason” is the day my mother passed away but I have accepted that I may never see that as such.

The day my mama passed, I made a comment to everyone that I didn’t want to live any longer in a world where she didn’t exist, that I would have given anything, including my own life, to have my mama back. My brother later pulled me aside, pointing out that this was an insensitive comment to be making in front of the man that I “supposedly” wanted to spend the rest of my life with, David. I understood his point at the time though now, I still feel as if I would give anything. I want to live but I would give anything, including my own life, to have my mama back. I suppose even though I understood his point, it didn’t mean that my feelings changed and now they’re even more affirmative since David is no longer a part of my life.

The holidays stir up so many mixed emotions within me. I used to look forward to this time of year and a small part of me still does but the larger part of me wants to sleep away the last couple months of the years. It’s just not the same anymore. Knowing my mama was thousands of miles away, carving a turkey in a suburb of Kansas City was enough. Knowing she was sitting around my grandma’s dining table, cracking jokes about country music and sharing her opinion on the state of America’s security was enough. Nowadays and the holidays that follow, I presume, will never feel like enough. How does one ever accept this? How does one avoid the simultaneous depression?

While I’m at it, I’d like to share one of my deepest fears – I vowed my life, my love, my holidays to one man at one point in my life four and a half years ago – Once that vow was broken, not only did I lose him, I also lost another family, his family. I fear becoming that close to someone again, sharing such sacred, personal space and relationships and having it all just taken away in the end.

I know I cannot live my life burdened by this fear but I can talk about it – the loss. Losing is painful, utterly painful. I’ve said before how losing someone to life is often more painful than losing someone to death because losing someone in life is a choice whereas death is out of our control.

Losing someone to life presents all sorts of feelings of “not good enough,” “not enough,” and “just not enough.” And no matter how rational one becomes or mentally secure, loss is painful. It’s mentally, emotionally and at times, physically painful.  Even the effort that goes into trying to convey the pain is painful, in and of itself, because words can never begin to express or describe this missing puzzle piece, this gaping, black hole in my heart, in my life.

I’m finding myself closer and closer to someone, experiencing overwhelming feelings of love and caring I have never experienced before, even with David, even during our marriage. These feelings scare me shitless and not turning around and running aimlessly in the other direction is a daily battle that takes place mostly in my mind. It’s very lonely up here. I cannot destroy something wonderful because that would, frankly, be too easy. I refuse to take the easy way out!

*Sigh* time will tell, I suppose but in the meantime, I appreciate you listening to my inner most workings. I know I’m not alone in this and for that, I am grateful. I’m also grateful for the kitty cat that’s curled up in my lap, keeping me warm and the amazing friends I am blessed to call my family. Happy Thanksgiving y’all and much love.

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