Family . . .

Yesterday was my first Thanksgiving without a spouse and a family of in-laws to spend the day with. Given my general disdain for forced shared time, "major" holidays, mandatory expressions of thanks and appreciation and general cynicism toward my fellow man and all they may present this will probably not surprise you but I really didn't mind.

I miss my family, to be clear. They all gathered in the suburbs of Philadelphia where my mother no doubt cooked and baked her ass off and everyone else brought things to the table, literally, that made the meal spectacular and the people gathered around it basked in each other but traveling to be with them was not in the cards. So what DID I do? Who did I spend the day with?

Nothing and no one - in that order - and it was GLORIOUS. I have had a rough week. Death, sadness, anger, battles, financial demands, leaking toilets, threats, and a terrifying 48 hours without a single CheezIt to stuff in my face. I have not really had a "good night's sleep" since last Wednesday and, frankly, my charm had been exhausted. I just needed a day alone to "recharge." (The dumbest expression in the English language behind ONLY "rescued" to describe a dog owner's acquisition strategy.)

Let's be VERY clear here, folks (humble brag in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1) - I HAD options and offers. I was invited to spend the day with friends and their families no less than nine times. I had over a dozen people text or call me on the day of to ensure I was "okay" and to remind me of options extended but I did nothing with kindness. I burned it on Netflix, Skyfall, and a nice, long walk.

I did not want to burden any one or their family with my stink and grumpiness. I didn't want to drag my self-pity in to a living room that already ran short of sofa space. BUT the key take away here (and this is the only thing I need to even say in this post) is that I had offers.

I have friends and people who love me enough (dare I call them family?) to extend their homes, meals, tables, traditions, and occasions to me in a way that reminded me that while my life has changed a LOT in the last year, I'm not alone. And probably never will be.

THANK YOU to everyone that worried about, checked in, and welcomed me. Maybe next year I'll even show up and help distract your mother so the rest of you can have a little reprieve and enjoy the show (you  know who you are, mystery inviter).