Thanksgiving’s not so giving

I never cared for the turkey. No, even though it was the main dish, what was the point? I'd prefer chicken any day.

"Ray, would you like to try some of Grandma's famous turkey?"

I sat in silence as the huddled clump full of small eyes looked my way. The adults were catching up, happily chatting away while the children looked at me like a cluster of penguins; close knit, but observing what was going on. Awkwardly, I lowered my voice. "Thanks, I'd love some," I said, more relaxed as the adults started talking to the cluster of little humans. To this day, I'll admit that that was the only Thanksgiving feast I've ever enjoyed.

Everything was going smoothly; we were enjoying the company. The food, homemade and filled with love, was quite nice and gave a reminder. Fizzy memories of laughter and sweet family games cleared from my vision as I came back to the present. I started to feel this strong scent of happiness, like nothing, or no one could ever steal this moment from us.

The cranberry salad was the perfect blend of sweet and sour. The savory

and juicy turkey, fresh and hot from the oven. This was the only time I ate a turkey and actually liked it. Soft mashed potatoes that tone flavors down, so you don't overwhelm your taste buds. Gravy coating that reminded me of sitting by a fireplace. The combo of all three together was such an amazing flavor to taste. If I had a bigger stomach, I'd eat my mouth off. Finally, we got to dessert- pumpkin pie. It was so creamy, melting like the heart of a creme brulee, the crust with a bit of crunch factor, adding new texture.

Out of nowhere, sparks flew through my mind, turning and tumbling. Amongst this, I feared my secrecy was starting to fall apart. But noone can see this, or it'll destroy everything. I can't do this.

As everyone's moving to the dance circle in the living room, my thumbs struggle to type the right letters on the small phone keyboard. My cousin accidentally bumped into me, and I drop my phone. Right at that moment I felt a shudder down my spine. Noone can see that.

It fell on the floor, with the digital journal from a couple years back, open and propelling forward. Somehow, it managed to weave in between the dancing feet, slowing to a stop unnoticed. But it kept tossing and turning, and eventually it landed face-down infront of someone I was fearing would see the message the most. My mother's eyes widened in disbelief and suddenly settled. She mouthed, expression intense across her face - "Honestly Ray, I'm surprised. But I look and see your trembling hands and I don't know what to feel. But seriously, right now? We're in a family gathering." She seemed upset; but suprisingly noone slowed to a stop or was curious about what was going on.

She grabbed my arm and took me to the side. We talked, treading carefully around the shards from a cracked bowl. Both of us had cut, bleeding skin, but we still tried progressing through the maze. Those times were dark, and complex, but without it we wouldn't be the people we are today. I thought we'd never make it out, but eventually we did! It was only recently that things got better between us; we made up and claimed that we'd put what happened behind us. But promises are empty if we allow emotions to divert our perspective. I stood there in shock, cold sweats and nervousness flooding my brain. This could destroy all that we've fixed, but maybe if I have trust in her, everything will be okay.

Hushed whispers between us and immediately, I somehow knew that everything was fine. We fufilled our promise; since there was no tense air between us, we could talk more freely than I originally thought. Laughter overcame the shock I had from mom's reaction; she broke out into a warm smile. We hugged, confirming that we were both alright. With more confidence and strength than we ever had before, we laughed and talked with pure joy.

We vowed to keep this as a reminder for the future. Many years later, I'd see why it made the once shattered bowl into a beautiful masterpeice. But it wasn't the bowl we fixed, it was ourselves. Although the scars will still be there, we overcame it and we are stronger because of it.

It's these moments that remind me of the value of having people to bond with and love unconditionally; and how the effort on a two-way street doesn't always need to be even. Although the past may have been bumpy, we can always choose to change the ending. It's possible, and it changed our lives. We traversed past limits we didn't know it was possible to grow past.