This is a Writing Blog - and I'm writing. But at this moment I'm using this space as my Secret Place Behind the Door; I can safely vent here because so few know of its existence (none of the people I'm about to mention, though not by name) and I'm overcome with a fierce desire to speak my piece:
It's Thanksgiving 2010 and 6:30 AM. We've done Thanksgiving the same in my house for something like 25 years. My three children have been here, they KNOW the routine. A couple of weeks ago I sent reminders: please be here at 2:00, bring the usual (the one daughter-in-law makes the ever-present green bean casserole; the other, being a relatively new daughter-in-law, can bring whatever she'd like - last year she surprised and delighted us with a vegetable and barbecued ribs! Her new husband, my son, likes 'em. So did we all.)
My daughter brings delicious pie. We put a huge table in the living room, I use my grandmother's Spode, and I love it. It means a lot to me and having all three of my children together with me at once is a once-a-year event.
Did I mention that it's 6:30 AM Thanksgiving Day? Did I mention that I'm in tears? I thought I'd raised courteous, thoughtful children. Son #1: his son, my grandson, was in the hospital for pneumonia and just came home Monday (today is Thursday). He finally called back last night -- they may NOT be coming. Not because the boy is still poorly, no - "he's back to his usual annoying self", he said (fondly). NO -- seems HER mother is having HER Thanksgiving at 2:00 today too, and after all these years, they may get priority. The reason? Well see, her dad needs help with his car and my son can help. (I'll pause so that can be given some thought.)
The other son? Well...his wife (who declared to me very recently that nothing is as important as family) replied that he has to work Wednesday night and MAY have to work Thursday night (emphasis mine) so they probably aren't coming either. I can appreciate his having to work - but his wife and my stepgrandchildren and/or grandchildren (all of whom I love - and to whom "family is important") apparently aren't coming either.
So the only sure thing? My daughter, our dear young friend, my husband and I are assured of an excellent meal with much laughter and joy and leftovers.
My tears will dry. Knowing myself as I do, my sadness over terribly hurt feelings will turn to the realization that they're all behaving in a boorish and discourteous way - then I'll become angry. Then - my daughter, our friend, my husband and I will have a nice meal. Right now, still in tears, I"m fantasizing calling the boys and saying "Your behavior is discourteous and hurtful. Please think about my feelings in future."
I won't. I actually have no idea what I will do - but perhaps later I'll return and set forth what transpired. I guess I'll stash these feelings - they may come in useful for a character some day.