1-800-WAAAAAH

Well, on the plus side, Thursday's commemorations went off pretty well, all things considered. I served my brother's legal papers to him and only spent 8 hours getting there and back. The awkward dead silence of two moping teens and a family unable to think of anything to say... That seemed more honest somehow, more true to our lives, than the hypocrisy of previous years. And dare I say it? In all of that 'normality' I was able to find some grace. My mom has never looked grey to me before- but now that I'm aging noticeably, I'm able to see it in her as well. My nephews have bolted like volunteer beanstalks gone to seed- and that's not a surprise either. It just is. I guess I've stopped judging life for when it fails to meet my expectations.

The *real* celebration was to have been today. And I played some role in messing that part up, but mine was not the largest part. And that's not my story to tell. Point is, even if the Sunday feast turns out to have been a disaster, I definitely don't feel alone in it.

And in a sick twisted way, the holiday is fulfilled! We are supposed to feel not alone on thanksgiving, and I definitely feel like I am not alone. It would be unsporting to quibble about words like 'community' and 'functionality'. The despair floating around in this house is a very American despair. We are upholding a fine tradition of family disappointment. This would be a very good day to watch Running with Scissors. That may become a tradition too, but I hope not.

I am thankful that it isn't any worse than this. Let that be enough.