Thanksgiving wrapped in small revelations.

I can't really say that I "went home" for Thanksgiving because my dad's house has never really been my home. Especially since he got remarried. But it IS my dad's house, so that is sort of like going home, right?

A lot of people don't know that I have this other part of my family that is really wonderful, like my three sisters, my quirky grandmother, and my colorful array of cousins. The few that do know about my family on my dad's side know a little about the really uncomfortable situations, some of the drama, and a lot of my personal feelings and hesitations about the whole mess. To make it all really short, my step mom and I didn't really hit it off, and I quit staying there when I was about 15. (Quit envisioning screaming matches and one of us storming out though, it was more of a fade into the background as quickly as possible sort of transition.) Since then I have been back to that town on average of every 3 years. I spent a lot of time growing up being angry at my dad for not trying to make things better, and trying to hate or love my step mother. But the older I get, the less I do that. It's really nice. Yes, they have their down falls, but so do I. Oh lord, do I. About a year or so ago, I realized that I have forgiven them. It was such a relief to let it all go. And it completely changes the way I approach time with them now.

It's an odd sort of detached feeling that I was processing for most of the visit. I was a stranger among my own family. We have so successfully alienated each other, whether intentionally or not, that I don't really know them, they don't really know me. It is almost like participating in a foreign exchange homestay, with the added awkwardness and pretenses that come with being among family you don't know, but feel like you really should. I realized that a lot of my assupmptions or experiences with them may not be true anymore and it makes me wonder how they view me and my lifestyle. Honestly, I don't think I care too terribly much because I am at a point where I am happy and don't feel the need to justify much of my life to anyone. (Not that I wouldn't explain if asked in the right context...)

As I observed the little every day rituals they partake in, I realized how incredibly curious it all makes me. I wouldn't say jealous or envious, but curious. What is it like to be a teenage girl in a home where your dad comes to your room to say goodnight every evening, where family game night really happens, where your friends are welcome and frequent guests at the dinner table, and where everyone gathers to say a blessing before dinner? What is it like to come of age in a town where your basketball coach is also the sheriff and a member of your ward in church? A town where you can walk almost anywhere from your house? To grow up in a house with two parents there? I can't even fathom some of these things. I can see ups and downs in all of them, just as I can in the way I was raised, but it amazes me. It's all so....traditional, in a warm, peaceful sort of way. What is it like when there aren't people visiting? Is it still so happy and smooth going? Does it all still make sense or is it more of a burden or mask?

I left knowing these things 1) My dad is such a caring and sentimental person it makes me cry to think about. 2) My sisters are all so beautiful it's heartbreaking and smart that it's intimidating, but all in their own unique way. 3) My step mom works harder than anyone I know. She never stops. 4) The grandmother that never seems to age and always feels familiar has definitely aged, and didn't seem to know me at all. (One sign that things in that small town do change.) 5) I want to be a bigger part of it.

"i've been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you, each one a line or two, i'm fine baby, how are you?"

How is it November already? When did this happen? I did not consent! Not that it's too terribly bad, but as the end of the year draws near I recede into my little homebody shell once more and begin to take stock of what's what in my life. This use to also bring on a little depression and frustration that my life wasn't where I wanted it to be or thought it should be, but I find this year that I enjoy providing this opportunity for myself. The self reflection is a chance for me to slow down my life, and intentionally take a moment for me. There is a lot I could say that isn't going the way I want it to in life, but it doesn't matter. I have done what I can and will continue to do so. Beyond that, I haven't let it stress me out more than it should. And damn that feels good. And my house is quiet. It is home again. My mother moved out and sometimes the silence and emptiness shocks me when Emily is away at her dads, but I am also reveling in the physical space I now have. Last night when I couldn't sleep, I was able to put on music and sing to myself in the dark and disturb no one who had to be up in the morning. Ahhhh. It is so divine, the waking up back into my home that I feel like is taking place right now.

This weekend I head to Seattle for the young adult OWL training and to visit boy. I am looking forward to the training. And the boy. But the training is easy to talk about whereas the boy just makes me feel like an idiot when I try to say anything about the situation. Partly because there is intentionally no definition or label, which feels perfect for my life right now but makes it a bitch and half to figure out how to explain. Or process. I am ok with that for right now though. Back to the training. I have been trying to get to an Our Whole Lives training for years now. My church tried to send me to the elementary and high school ones, but it never worked out, so I am really excited to be going to this one. Not only because I think it's a great program, but because it is coming with the bonus of pertaining to my life too.

Emily and I recovered from our bout with swine flu quite nicely. I caught shit in the grocery store for wearing the shirt that I made myself. I think it's rather awesome, some people are more easily offended than me though, and while I feel bad, it makes me want to wear the shirt even more. (It has a winking pig on the front and on the back it says "I survived H1N1 and all I got was this lousy shirt") And while I am sorry that it offends, I really feel like at this point in my life, if I can't laugh at what isn't right and count my blessings for the things that are, I would be sad. And that is just not something I am interested in making time for.

I am going home for thanksgiving. Like, to my fathers. This has enough loaded history to give me material for two or three months worth of NanoWrimo. So I won't get into it here. Suffice to say, I am anxious yet excited and relieved. The older I get the more I accept that there are parts of that town that I love, that I will always love, and that intrinsically a part of who I am. And that I miss it. Yikes.