Thanksgiving in Wauseon 2018
It all began with rainbow suspenders
Me throwing a fit about what to wear to a wedding
Tem compromising beyond what she wanted
My mother's ability to prowl the internet too deep
My mom asked about the suspenders already knowing the answer
She responds by letting me know what a disappointment I am to her.
She asks what my address is to mail my birthday card, already conceding she had pushed her youngest son away without any sign of remorse or peace offering.
I roll with the punch and drive my rumbly car up the long cold grey path to what is left of our family Thanksgiving.
Mom
Dad
Me
The meal is served with the low commentating of the Lions game as my father says a blessing.
He mentioned my mom's mom. After amen my mom is in tears. Grandma has a potential cancerous growth around her abdomen.
Mom mentions her friend's children one addicted to substances another a lesbian.
She takes a few jabs at the Affordable Care Act and another at people fleeing California to more conservative places, Texas, Idaho. I keep my eyes low, stepping aside as the paint can swings.
This is my family now.
This is my Thanksgiving.
My dad's parents have passed away
My mom vowed to never return to the aunts and uncles Thanksgiving
Her side lives all across the country
My sister in law works this weekend postponing my brother's arrival.
No nieces or nephews
This is my life.
We finish the meal I stay to watch the lions lose despite my feelings towards the NFL and football in general, again I step over the bear trap.
I lie about living in Worthington with Travis to again avoid finding exactly which straw will finish off the camel.
How strange. Growing up I thought my family was normal, and by that I mean happy and drama free.
Now I realize my family is normal...messy, argumentative, and tensely quiet.
I've always dreamed of that Wal-mart, Hallmark, Thanksgiving day commercial family.
Smiles, laughter...and most importantly, a full house. The older I get the more I see how much work that takes, how much forgiveness, how much contact, and questions, and life.
Thinking about my mother, what an interesting woman.
She has cut herself off of her church of 30 some years
She has cut herself off of her in-laws of 36+ years
and she asked for my mailing address, assuming she'd cut herself off from her own son
and here I am, yesterday I found an apartment for myself.
Her blood runs through my veins, but I don't want her 61st Thanksgiving in 29 years.
What am I doing? What am I looking for? What is wrong with me?
Tem, she's in Mississippi, that's the kind of travel, money, time, effort her family spends to be near one another on Thanksgiving. Sister from California, Great Aunts from Mississippi. I know they have family drama, but I also know their Thanksgiving table is full.
She expects, texts back, phone calls, snapchats, ig comments, facetimes, she comes from a family.
I spend my Thanksgiving night alone, relieved I was able to slink away back to Columbus. She wants more life together. And I'm moving out, cutting myself off, becoming my mother?
Jackson Penn - Streetlights on Mars
It all began with rainbow suspenders
Me throwing a fit about what to wear to a weddingTem compromising beyond what she wanted
My mother's ability to prowl the internet too deep
My mom asked about the suspenders already knowing the answer
She responds by letting me know what a disappointment I am to her.
She asks what my address is to mail my birthday card, already conceding she had pushed her youngest son away without any sign of remorse or peace offering.
I roll with the punch and drive my rumbly car up the long cold grey path to what is left of our family Thanksgiving.
Mom
Dad
Me
The meal is served with the low commentating of the Lions game as my father says a blessing.
He mentioned my mom's mom. After amen my mom is in tears. Grandma has a potential cancerous growth around her abdomen.
Mom mentions her friend's children one addicted to substances another a lesbian.
She takes a few jabs at the Affordable Care Act and another at people fleeing California to more conservative places, Texas, Idaho. I keep my eyes low, stepping aside as the paint can swings.
This is my family now.
This is my Thanksgiving.
My dad's parents have passed away
My mom vowed to never return to the aunts and uncles Thanksgiving
Her side lives all across the country
My sister in law works this weekend postponing my brother's arrival.
No nieces or nephews
This is my life.
We finish the meal I stay to watch the lions lose despite my feelings towards the NFL and football in general, again I step over the bear trap.
I lie about living in Worthington with Travis to again avoid finding exactly which straw will finish off the camel.
How strange. Growing up I thought my family was normal, and by that I mean happy and drama free.
Now I realize my family is normal...messy, argumentative, and tensely quiet.
I've always dreamed of that Wal-mart, Hallmark, Thanksgiving day commercial family.
Smiles, laughter...and most importantly, a full house. The older I get the more I see how much work that takes, how much forgiveness, how much contact, and questions, and life.
Thinking about my mother, what an interesting woman.
She has cut herself off of her church of 30 some years
She has cut herself off of her in-laws of 36+ years
and she asked for my mailing address, assuming she'd cut herself off from her own son
and here I am, yesterday I found an apartment for myself.
Her blood runs through my veins, but I don't want her 61st Thanksgiving in 29 years.
What am I doing? What am I looking for? What is wrong with me?
Tem, she's in Mississippi, that's the kind of travel, money, time, effort her family spends to be near one another on Thanksgiving. Sister from California, Great Aunts from Mississippi. I know they have family drama, but I also know their Thanksgiving table is full.
She expects, texts back, phone calls, snapchats, ig comments, facetimes, she comes from a family.
I spend my Thanksgiving night alone, relieved I was able to slink away back to Columbus. She wants more life together. And I'm moving out, cutting myself off, becoming my mother?
Jackson Penn - Streetlights on Mars