Thanksgiving Shifts

The first Thanksgiving we hosted, we were two young kids with no idea how to host. It involved turkey in a bag and a 6 hour delayed dinner. A band of misfits including a couple siblings and their new significant others, a dad who soaked his feet in the turkey pan, and a misbehaved dog. We all crammed into our one-room, 500 square foot studio.

Everything went wrong and it was perfect.

That year unknowingly started a tradition and we would go on to host future thanksgivings for the next decade. Everything from intimate backyard gatherings, warmed by the heat of our love, to large events filled with whatever friends and families could make the trip. When those without plans showed up, we added makeshift tables and chairs with whatever surfaces we could find.

5 years ago was the last thanksgiving we hosted together. It was also the last one where Brad was alive. Family came from all over the country and Brad spent most of the week unable to move from our bed, before eventually heading to the hospital where we learned about his tumor progression.

I have struggled with the holiday since.

But this year, I once again felt compelled to host. I wanted the music and the warmth and the laughter. I wanted to cook for those I loved in this new space I have created for myself. I wanted that same feeling of joy I felt during all those years of hosting.

But with that desire comes the realization that life - and the holidays - are different now. The people, the place, even the food - they’re all different. And I have to grieve that loss, too.

But different isn’t always bad. In fact, sometimes it can be pretty great.

This year, I’m opening the door for change. I’m opening up my mind to new traditions (and yes, also still clinging tightly to the old ones too).

This year won’t be large and boisterous (well, it will still probably be boisterous). Instead it will be cozy and intimate. It will involve rotating records and games by the fire and yes, a dip in the lake.

It will also involve baked brie and shrimp cocktail - Brad’s favorites. And Yahtzee and Skip Bo - my dad’s favorite. And mashed potatoes & Love Actually - my sister’s favorite. And stuffing and fireside chats - my partner’s favorite.

This year will be a blend of it all. Old and new, past and future, grief and joy.

Life - like grief - shifts. And this year is no different.