I've been sitting in my office all day, distracting myself with posting about everything else other than Thanksgiving. There have been strings of thoughts through my mind that could easily work themselves into sentences and then paragraphs and eventually fulfill my feelings that the holiday must be discussed. It has just been difficult to weave it together. More difficult than I imagined.
This makes sense, I suppose, since Thanksgiving was more difficult than I imagined. I tried very hard to convince myself that the near eight-hour road trip with my dad and grandmother sitting in happy silence in the front seats and my mom and I nestled around Lil E in the carseat in the back, would be the beginning of a get-away. I really hoped that the hotel room my boy and I shared that adjoined to my parents' room would give us a bit of a retreat from being long-term guests in their home while also having some support for the inevitable late-night wakings in a strange bed far from home. I so wanted to escape the upheaval that has become our new normal.
That's not what happened. As much as I hate to put these words to keyboard or screen or into the universe, I was - quite honestly - not feeling very grateful. And that's where it began to unravel.