Thanksgiving

For an atheist, Thanksgiving is an odd time. For one thing, who are we being "thankful" too? I guess I can think of people I am thankful too. But thinking of fortunate events, or the lack of misfortune during the year, the feeling about that expresses happiness or relief rather than thanks.

The Pilgrims, of course, had someone they could be thankful to. Squanto, the Native American who had earlier been abducted to Europe in slavery, whose village had died off from diseases, but who chose to save the settlers who would have died without his help. That's rare a form of heroism and compassion that needs to be celebrated when it happens.

Being an atheist means, however, does come with a certain principles: one is, if someone gives you a day off with pay, take it. I don't care what they call it. Take it. The other is, never miss an excuse to party and celebrate, no matter what the bullshit behind it is.  Life should include fun, and even in the midst of recalling misery, you still have that need.

I'm severely out of step with my family when it comes to Thanksgiving, but not because of the principle. As you can see, I can reinterpret the holiday to my liking, or even come up with an alternate that just happens to correspond. (Thankwansi anyone?)

Remember first, I've never been married. I don't have children. So, my family includes my dad, my siblings, and their children. I realized in October how little I have in common with them. For my dad and siblings, I've just realize how little I have in common with them. Their Catholic, extremely so. I'm atheist. I'm socially liberal, they're socially very conservative. So, in politics and religion, they're not interested in hearing my side. Besides that, they're not interested in anything I'm interested in. They never ask me what's going on, engage me in conversation. They're not interested in my writing, they won't read it, and that tells me something.

Then I asked myself: when was the last time they gave any emotional support? My first sister helped me when my life collapsed. She set me up in my parent's house. So, yes, she helped me materially. But that was material support without emotional support. In fact, it was under extreme emotional tension between us. I am thankful to her, though.

They've all given me help materially when I needed it. For that I'm thankful. I've paid it back. I bailed Dad's house out of foreclosure.


The nephews and nieces, I wish I had more contact with them, but we've mostly drifted apart despite my wishes.

And, of course, because I'm the opposed to them religiously, socially and politically, that means I'm more or less, disdained, or at least, ostracized. The message is unconscious, and I've always had that feeling from them.

When Mom was alive, I had a different sort of tension with her, and I'll treat that in another post. But I never had a reconciliation with her. I waited for the conversation that never came.

I don't want to wait like that with them. There's no point in going to a place where I'm going to be bored with people who send every unconscious message, and few conscious ones, that I'm not welcome; people who consider my interests to be frivolous and wastes of their time. This hurts, especially when they're supposed to be my closest ties. It drains me and depresses me.

So, I hung away this Thanksgiving. I stayed in, read and wrote. I was happy. I didn't even miss the turkey. I do okay with my own food.

Since this was so successful, I'm going to do the same Christmas, New Year's, and in fact, every week. If I had been well enough thirty years ago, I would have done it then. In fact, I tried, but wasn't able to make any connections outside of the family. But that's the subject of a different post, too.

No, definitely not my family. Not pilgrims either.