Bleeding Fiction

The local NBC affiliate is broadcasting the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with a time delay rather than live. This means that us folks here on the Left Coast can watch the whole parade, instead of only the last half hour or so. It's a nice touch, a small comfort for someone who's woken up to the parade every year before now.

But, parade or not, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, my favorite day of the year. It has been for as long as I can remember. Of course there's the humanitarian nature of the day and the human interest stories that dominate the news, but for me the pleasure of Thanksgiving is much more personal. For me, Thanksgiving is a holiday without the burdens of holidays; it's joy without the attendant pressures. There aren't any onerous religious obligations, there's no need to dress nice. There's no commercial build-up insisting that we buy, buy, buy. I don't have to run around and visit more than one house.

Without these burdens, and with my family divorced from the usual insanity of their regular lives, I can actually enjoy their company. They stop being lunatics and become just people. We go to one aunt and uncle's house and see my favorite relatives. It's... well, not normal, but happy. It's the day I get to enjoy the things I don't get to enjoy or have on any other day, that half the time I don't even want to have.

This day there's no where I'd rather be than home with my family, which makes it particularly painful that I'm so far away. I've received three different invitations from people here to spend my day with them. That's incredibly touching and I'm very greatful, but it just wouldn't feel right. I've always said that my friends are my real family, and that's very true, but there are few friends who are family enough for today and none of them are here.

All of which makes today a little sad for me. So I'm just going to ignore the rest of Thanksgiving for this year. Maybe next year will be different.