The Original Party People (my parents) are going to be back in town tonight for the celebration that is Thanksgiving.
We celebrate in an unusual way, and it is sad that it is unusual.
Every year my family goes to a soup kitchen and feeds the poor, the tired, the sick, and the lonely.
It wasn't always like this, as when my Grandmother was alive she was the Queen of all things Holiday. She had big outrageous parties for family, friends, random people walking down the street...It didn't matter, because the more the merrier was her philosophy.
When she died, people in our extended family assumed that my Mom would inherit the thrown. She did for a little while, but many of the people didn't appreciate all the hard work or offer to help. Hell, they didn't even bring anything.
My parents volunteered at a soup kitchen a couple times a month and heard how hard it was to get volunteers on the holidays. Being half Native American, Thanksgiving is a bit of a sketchy holiday for us anyway.
So my parents decided that we would spend Thanksgiving there one year, and everyone that usually came to our house could come and help.
It was no small surprise when none of them showed up. This turned out to be the best Thanksgiving ever, and we have done it ever since.
While it is heartbreaking, I walk out of there knowing exactly how lucky I am. All the little things that I crab and bitch about on a daily basis just seem so...so....small.
I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach, people who love me, a job that affords me the opportunity to help those who need it, and I'm a citizen of the most powerful and successful country in the world.
There are so many people out there who are lacking any one of those things, and some who are lacking all of them.
I am so thankful and humbled to live the life that I lead.