Thankless Giving

November 2022 - The first Thanksgiving after the loss.

It’s the week of Thanksgiving. And while I do have an awful lot to be thankful for, the thought of giving thanks right now feels ridiculous - almost laughable. And quite uncomfortable. 

I don’t want to be around anybody. Let alone fringe family members and their affiliates, eyeballing me from the corner of the kitchen. I don’t want anybody thinking, “Oh my god, here we are giving thanks right in front of him, and after everything he’s been through this year.” Or that I look like I’m holding up well, or terribly, or whatever car wreck commentary might be flashing through their minds.

Not that anyone is necessarily going to be thinking any of those things. They probably won’t be. But I will. On top of that, I’m responsible for the green bean casserole this year and I just don’t feel like making fried onions from scratch. Plus, I don’t have the kitchen gadgets to pull it off at the moment, and I don’t want to venture into the outside world to procure them.

Would it really be love if I didn’t provide people with the best casserole I’m capable of making? Or maybe a dish with canned soup, canned green beans, and shelf-stable almost-onions is the best I can do right now, and that is love. Perhaps they just want to have me around no matter what shape I’m in, and that’s love too.

The whole event feels like more stress, work, and worry than it’s worth. But I’m sure it won’t kill me. If I can stay out of my own way and my own head, it might be kind of nice. So a lot like… Thanksgiving. 

Fuck it. I’ll make a casserole and put pants on.