Well I thought me and my family at the Holidays was bad, but this takes the cake. I am remembering all the holidays I spent away from them, and that while some of them were the worst days of my life, a lot of them were the best.
Thanksgiving in California with my new husband (1991), for instance, was my best ever. I made my first turkey! and it were delicious. Christmas that year was also probably the best ever. We decided not to celebrate in any particular way. We just had a pleasant day. Compared to make-believe Christmas with atheists this was a real gift. My baby’s first Christmas was definitely the best ever. He was only a few months old; he loved the tree; so did my husband (I did it all by mine own.) I made rolled filet of sole for dinner and somehow it was right. I’d have to ask my ex if it was good, I thought so.
This year is going to be the WORST ever. In the past I was either with THEM, away from THEM with someone better, or away from THEM alone, the last being probably the worst: New Year’s with an old lady and a dual diagnosis MHMR man who liked to talk about sex. That wasn’t the worst. I remember figuring I had to learn to be on my own for the holidays. The worst was the day on R-1 at the old Reading Hospital in West Reading when it was Christmas Day, everyone had visitors, and noone ever showed up to see me.
Easter at the state hospital was a GOOD holiday. Easter at my parents’ home was always dismal, and still his. I got yelled at for wearing my cross. At the state hospital some Good Samaritan brought us colored, real Easter eggs, hard-boiled eggs, and it was the holiest thing in the simplest way, that I had ever experienced.
This year I am supposed to moving. Tomorrow. Uh-oh. My sister and her husband, on whom I am not, as far as I know, on speaking terms, are here as of today, so of course my mother has dropped all the eggs in MY basket to flatter, baby, and pander to my sister for as long as she wants to stay, so I’ll have to stay away (Thanksgiving, what?). And all my months worth of planning for a good move and some other major issues, go down the toilet. My mother is getting to old for this in a number of ways. Fortunately I happen to have already bought a microwaveable turkey dinner and the other day by chance I picked up a big can of yams, turkey gravy, and whole berry cranberry relish. So I’ll be okay. Now that I have gotten all this out I am back in touch with the reason for the season, which is of course as all the posted signs remind us, to be grateful: for a roof over my head tonight, and for my son’s new job. He’ll be working Thanksgiving night I think. As for gratefulness, my parents can take a hike this year. They made me beg for a slap in the face.