“That caviar is a garnish!” - Kathleen Kelly

Thanksgiving was a tough concept this year. 

I really want to be the kind of person who can rise above all the shitty things that have happened to us this year. I want to be able to blissfully smile as I look over all the good in my life, the bad hidden underneath the blanket of happy shiny positive light from my glowing halo. 

But there’s an angry toddler inside of me that is screaming “HEY DID YOU REMEMBER ALL OF THESE BAD THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO YOU NO YOU FORGOT OH LET ME REMIND YOU SO YOU CAN FEEL SHITTY AND ALSO DON’T FORGET TO TELL EVERYONE SO THEY CAN FEEL ADEQUATELY SORRY FOR YOU.” 

This toddler cannot be placated. She’s pissed off, tired, and hungry, a deadly combination at any age. 

But we all have an angry toddler inside of us, right? At least at times? So I try to ignore her. I  try really hard to focus on the good things in my life but when my baseline living situation is what it is...man, it’s really hard. 

Like in so many areas of my life, I feel split in two most of the time. While I’m obviously thankful that I feel as well as I do, given my situation, and it’s great that I can still talk and eat to the point I can, I can still drive and go for walks and play with our foster dog (Dog Joe!) and laugh with Joe (Human Joe!) and do things I enjoy, I still find it difficult not to focus on the things that are missing. 

Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday. I loved the excuse to eat and drink and be merry without the pressure of gift-giving, the opportunity to stop and think about thankful things. And the leftovers! What is better than Thanksgiving leftovers? I totally get why Ross lost his shit when someone ate (most of) his sandwich. 

Now? I resent that I should be expected to feel thankful for anything at this point. So Thursday was tough. I tried to come up with ways to distract myself from the fact that I couldn’t eat all the delicious food that I wanted with things that didn’t involve food. Luckily, we had FOSTER DOG JOE, the ultimate distraction. And I came up with the idea of celebrating HANKSgiving and pulled out all the Tom Hanks movies we own - thinking I could focus on an activity I enjoy (movie marathons) to distract myself from all the eating and wine-drinking I wasn’t doing. 

It helped. It really did. But at some point of the day, I had to put my phone away. Seeing the photos of everyone’s Thanksgiving spreads...the meal and wine and dessert and the loved ones gathered around the tables, thinking of nothing but tucking into a great meal. I couldn’t do it. Joe made some Thanksgiving foods for himself, and I was so glad he was getting that part of the celebration, that sense of normalcy, but smelling it as it cooked was torture. I was able to eat a little bit of it with some manipulation, but it wasn’t the same. It tasted OK (not as good as it smelled) but it’s still not easy to eat anything. It hardly seems worth the effort most of the time. Especially not on a holiday centered around eating. It just made me feel sadder than if I hadn’t eaten anything (like last year, when I’d just finished radiation, and it literally hurt too much to eat). 

Still. The non-angry-toddler side of me does recognize that there are things to be thankful for. The Joes, both human and dog. The wild animal friends who visit our porch, which lately have consisted of a variety of little brown birds, a bunny, and the fattest squirrels I’ve ever seen. The technology to keep in touch with faraway friends and family. The medical efforts available that are keeping me alive (even if some days this doesn’t feel like the ideal scenario). Benadryl naps. The kindest work friends I could ask for, who make me laugh and send me pictures of adorable animals and bring me PUPPIES to cheer me up and (I suspect) ducks to decorate my porch. Blanket nests on the sofa. That I work from home and can hang out in what are basically glorified pajamas. And this year? Tom Hanks.