You know you’re old when you can no longer go home for the holidays.
I’ve lived in Utah for two and a half years now. I’ve spent one Thanksgiving and one Easter with a family other than my own. And I don’t exactly have $600 to spend on a three-day vacation this year which means … another Thanksgiving without my family.
When I was younger, my older siblings often missed special celebrations like Thanksgiving, Easter, the Fourth of July, my birthday (cough cough) and sometimes even Christmas. They had school. They had families. They had jobs. And while I prayed and prayed to get older so I could finally escape the bounds of childhood, I never imagined that eventually, that would be me.
I guess that’s what you get when you attend a school 1,000 miles away: no going home for the holidays.
But it’s not all bad. Oh, no. There are good things that come with not spending Thanksgiving with my family. For example, I have to find another place to go. Of course, I could just be by myself, but what fun is that?
The first step is finding the family I’m staying with, and it’s usually an extended relative or a random friend’s family. All is great. We’re having a good time. We’re talking and eating and laughing. And then, the questions come. How’s school? What’s your major? What do you want to do after graduation? How’s work? Are you dating anyone? Why not? How about I set you up with (insert random person’s name here)? On and on and on about the most depressing things in my life right now. Of course, this happens at home too, but my immediate family is quick enough to know the answers.
So let’s just cut to the chase. School is stressful. I’m graduating a year early and have absolutely no clue what I want to do with my life. Work is fine. No, I’m not dating anyone, and actually, I would not like to be set up because I’m apparently trying to win the world record for being the most undateable person. As a 20-year-old girl, my life is completely figured out. Thanks for asking.
I guess I should give the family the benefit of the doubt. They don’t really know me, and they’re just trying to figure me out. Credit given.
Whew, got through the questions. Now on to the meal. I love Thanksgiving, partly because it’s an opportunity to give thanks but mostly because all of my favorite foods are in one room, on one table. I can almost taste the juicy turkey, bathed in homemade mashed potatoes and gravy … wait, what is that? There are, like, three bowls on the table. This isn’t right. No. There’s supposed to be more than that. Where are the sweet potatoes with marshmallows? Where’s the homemade jam for the rolls? Why are there instant mashed potatoes?!
Not having Thanksgiving with your family means you don’t get all the things you’re used to. I think I was spoiled as a kid. When my family does holiday meals, they ~do~ holiday meals.
Okay, okay, so the meal wasn’t that bad, and the conversation didn’t exactly lag. Things aren’t as bad as I thought. I can make it through another Thanksgiving without my family.
After a hard afternoon of filling our stomachs, the family I’m with and I sit and relax in the living room.
Then, I hear that familiar buzz. The best part about not going home for Thanksgiving is the lovely call I get from my family. I look over to see my phone vibrating with the FaceTime call on my screen. When I answer the call, my family bursts into a fit of excitement and jubilee. They tell me all about the delicious, juicy turkey Dad cooked for lunch. They tell me all about how my three-year-old and one-year-old nieces did something funny. They tell me who won the air-hockey tournament. They tell me all about how they miss me while they pass the phone around to all my cousins saying, “Hi, Calli! Wish you were here, Calli! When are you coming home, Calli?”
Thanks, family. Thanks for the reminder that I haven’t seen you in months.
All in all, I can talk and talk about how it’s not that bad not going home for Thanksgiving, but the truth is this: I hate not being home for Thanksgiving.