I grew up in *the* house. The house that hosted laughing girls every time a new Disney Channel movie premiered. The house that served as the congregating place for our extended family every holiday. My childhood was filled with special meals and celebrations marking each milestone of the year. The memories of those holidays are something I hold closely to my heart.
As I got older, however, holidays started look really different than those memories. My dad was diagnosed with Early Onset Parkinson’s Disease at the age of 29, when I was just a year old. I don’t have many memories of his diagnosis affecting my childhood, but around 2020, his disease and symptoms began to progress much more quickly. Slowly but surely, our day-to-day lives were changed forever.
Even though I knew our lives were different, the first time I came home from college for Thanksgiving break, my inner child was eager for the Thanksgivings she knew, with an elaborate meal and a table overflowing with family. When the day arrived, I was entirely unprepared for those expectations to not be met. Meals were smaller. Cooking was more chaotic. The dining room table had empty chairs. I faced a lot of disappointment over losing what I thought holidays were supposed to be. Three years later, I still feel the longing for that traditional, picture-perfect Thanksgiving. With my father’s disability, our family Thanksgiving celebrations have become so different than when I was a child, from ordering from a local diner, to being unable to travel to see extended family, to eating dinner alone. However, instead of wishing for the past, I have worked hard to readjust my expectations and celebrate the true meaning of Thanksgiving: gratitude.
The hardest part of this mindset shift for me has been, without a doubt, comparison to others. Going back to class after Thanksgiving break and hearing about my classmates’ holidays can be a really difficult experience. The disappointment of a lackluster holiday stings just a little bit more when a professor asks everyone in the room about their breaks. So, I have made sure that my break becomes full of every happy occasion I can squeeze in. Thanksgiving break becomes about so much more than that picturesque Thanksgiving Day when it’s complete with Black Friday shopping traditions, lunches with friends, and nights giggling with my sister. So, when asked about my Thanksgiving break, these are the moments I share. With this, I regain the control over how I remember my holiday by focusing on the positive. This always gives me relief when jealousy rears its ugly head at the sound of others’ Turkey Day tales.
I strive for a carefully constructed Thanksgiving Day as well, ensuring that I will have moments of rest and enjoyment even though the majority of the day’s experience is outside of my control. The first part of accomplishing this for me has been recognizing where I do have control, and building expectations based upon this. The holiday will not be what I once knew, and is now its own entirely unpredictable and unique experience. But having realistic, rather than idealistic, expectations helps me to have gratitude for the moments that do go right, rather than facing disappointment at problems beyond my control. When those moments of frustration and anger creep in, because I know they will, I take time to remove myself from the situation and focus on something that will help me recenter myself. And of course, I still try to sneak in small Thanksgiving traditions for some childhood comfort, like baking the same rolls each year.
I know that Thanksgivings of the future will not look like those of my past.
Another important part of celebrating gratitude for me is sharing it with others. I try to text friends and family to let them know that I am thankful to have them in my life. A special text, no matter how short, can really go a long way in showing someone that you care. I know that receiving a text like this always brightens my day, and that a small moment of joy can help others during their own difficult days.
I know that Thanksgivings of the future will not look like those of my past. This year, though, I choose to focus on the good. I am grateful to be able to celebrate with my family, no matter what form it takes. I am grateful for time with friends. Above all, I am grateful for myself and the choices I make.