How did you Thanksgiving go?
I hope well.
My Thanksgiving was filled of drama, suspense, passion, confusion, and hypocrisy. Why? Because after twenty-one years of being apart, my grandfather and mother finally saw each other. It was a great, and all the drama in my family was unleashed in three days of remembering and sharing old stories that revealed personal traits about my mother, my aunts, and my uncles. The way they were as children, and the way they are now. And how these people I always saw as adults can transform and become children again, in the presence of their father…after twenty-one years. Twenty one, that’s a full fledge adult who just made the legal drinking age. Twenty-one.
Being around my family explains a lot of things about me. Like the evil inside me. Haha, just kidding. But seriously, I realized that we al have good and bad in ourselves, and some of my bad traits were explained to me through the observation of our Thanksgiving meal.
But what holiday is safe of family drama? None, in my opinion. It’s what makes us solidify ourselves into a unit of meshed up ideas with sustained historical traumas that are passed down from generation to generation.
I love Thanksgiving. It makes me reflect about things I am grateful for, and it makes me wonder about who I might be were it not for the weirdos around me. I love them. I love Thanksgiving.
We hug, we toast, we binge, we drink, we laugh, we wipe away tears, we remember, we wink across the table, we throw napkins filled with secret messages and jokes that we think are too dark for our father’s father. But we all know that’s not true.
We are ourselves and in ourselves we are one.
I hope, Reader, you got to spend dutiful time with your loved ones. I hope you discovered things about yourself. I hope you ate too much. I hope you took a nap after you ate. I hope you spilled wine on your favorite tie. And I hope you woke up the next day feeling like there was no need to eat breakfast…because you were still full from the night before. I hope you are grateful that we live in a nation where that is possible. I know I am. I came from Perú for crying out loud, I think about it all the time.
My family pigged out on Peruvian and American food because that’s how we roll.
Long live Morenos.