Thanksgiving
It's suppose to be a day of thanks and giving where you celebrate with your family. It's when you see the family you haven't seen in a while, and meet family you never knew you had. It's also a great time to meet your girlfriends'/boyfriends' family.Everyone gathers, stuff their faces and drink all in fun. Everyone but us.
This year, my mother and I got into yet another argument. It appears that they get more foolish as the disputes go on. It started with a justified "you shouldn't go over your cousins house because of the situation over there" to "you take to much stuff as a joke." Which would have been alright, if I wasn't just joking about my dad just getting back from Africa, which he really was just getting back from.
It's the second year in a row where we haven't celebrated as we are used to. It's not that we don't love eachother or anything like that. The fact is on August 12, 2005 my Grandma Rose pasted away. If I had to compare her to anything, it would the cross, not in the sense that she was Jesus, but she connected our family as one.
Now, all her children have gone there own way, my grandfather has gone into a depression, and holidays aren't as they used to. The only plus is, as expected, her grandchildren have remained as one. Even though we don't have that influence in our lives as we once had, we still manage to proceed on, finding motivation where ever we can. While others can't relate to our bond, it feels good to have eachothers presence. So when Thanksgiving comes, I don't look for food, although I love to eat, or people around, although I love my family, it's the memory of my Grandmother I most look forward to.
This year, my mother and I got into yet another argument. It appears that they get more foolish as the disputes go on. It started with a justified "you shouldn't go over your cousins house because of the situation over there" to "you take to much stuff as a joke." Which would have been alright, if I wasn't just joking about my dad just getting back from Africa, which he really was just getting back from.
It's the second year in a row where we haven't celebrated as we are used to. It's not that we don't love eachother or anything like that. The fact is on August 12, 2005 my Grandma Rose pasted away. If I had to compare her to anything, it would the cross, not in the sense that she was Jesus, but she connected our family as one.
Now, all her children have gone there own way, my grandfather has gone into a depression, and holidays aren't as they used to. The only plus is, as expected, her grandchildren have remained as one. Even though we don't have that influence in our lives as we once had, we still manage to proceed on, finding motivation where ever we can. While others can't relate to our bond, it feels good to have eachothers presence. So when Thanksgiving comes, I don't look for food, although I love to eat, or people around, although I love my family, it's the memory of my Grandmother I most look forward to.
posted by poeticlyspeaking at 9:50 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home