My neurotic aunt decided it would be a good idea for everyone
to write down what they were most thankful for this year.
I hesitated over my yellow paper square,
before my pen bit the bullet and scratched out the truth.
I'm thankful for being here on this beautiful, unlikely planet with all of you.
It wasn't what they wanted to hear.
They wanted me to say the mundane. Family, health, sports even.
They all laughed uncomfortably when it was read.
Of course anonymity doesn't work with family.
I'm sure they thought I was pretentious, but it was my truth.
I knew I should've just gone with what they wanted to hear, but I'm already
hiding so much from them. I just wanted them to see me as I really am, for once.
I laughed louder over the rest of them, teeth flashing a smile.
Nerd, my sister said and that was that moment for my family.
But not for me- I'd think about my slip all while I was trying to sleep.
I hate them, so, so much.
You should get one of the big, strong boys to carry that for you.
Excuse me? It's a kitchen chair. I think I can handle that.
The moms are all in the kitchen. The girl cousins are sent to help.
The guys watch football on the couch.
My uncle puts on a fake voice and pretends to be gay.
Everyone- including me- laughs because it's funny,
But something deep inside my brain squirms at perpetuating these stereotypes.
Don't make me a party to your crimes.
A whole night and have we talked about anything at all?
We told a story about old Aunt Alma, now dead.
There's two sentences about income inequality and the free market.
Then a play happens on the TV and the conversation dies.
Always, always sports on TV with my uncle around- and he has the nerve to yell at us for being attached to our phones?
We watched the parade for a while
but that turned awkward when the music side of the family
started critiquing all the performances.
They're all weirdly obsessed with weight.
My grandma brought a drawing she'd found from my youngest cousin at her place.
It would've been cute, except for the fact that it was
of her older brother with a round body saying I don't workout.
Yeah, that's cute.
Eventually, I couldn't deal with them anymore.
I picked up a magazine and started reading.
I was still paying attention to them, laughing along with whatever happened
every now and then.
They started playing a game, so I joined in from my chair.
My uncle came over, unsolicited, whispered real low in my ear
You don't want to be known as the family member that doesn't participate.
I glared at him, all the hate I'd felt all night building behind my eyes.
I let out a deep, hissing breath.
I can make my own choices, thanks.
I played the next round
and went back to reading about how the pesh merga's fight against ISIS is going.
But they're family right?
I have to love them.
And I do.
I love them all so, so much.
I think of my uncle and his son failing at singing the lyrics of pop songs
and me looking over at my cousin
sharing the cheetah blanket with me opposite on the couch,
both of us too hysterical to speak from laughing at them.
I think of my little girl cousin, chasing her around for her pink beanie,
playing on the giant bouncy ball,
her getting tired and starting to **** her thumb
and pulling out her ***** old baby doll.
I think of my grandma and how last Thanksgiving,
no one thought we were going to have another with her at the table.
I think of my uncle, and how he only has one working arm now
and so with all his humility and humor,
laughed when my mom accidentally forgot and told him to butter his own bread.
I think of the moms, so different
but all so strong, and independent,
making this family, this meal work.
I hate them for what they sometimes do,
but I love them for who they are.
I ponder that as the days roll over.
My sister's forced me to keep on the lights in the basement and
while everyone else has gotten a bed,
the two of us are on the basement floor.
I know I'm not going to sleep.
I hate the things you do, but I love you who you are
**I am thankful to be here on this beautiful, unlikely planet with all of you.