It’s about 6am, the start of a holiday week. People will be out rushing to get the last ingredients needed for a festive dinner, cars will get packed with luggage as people dart across the country to visit relatives and loved ones. Annual traditions will be relived once again.
Something about traditions around the holidays keep us grounded, that despite how disruptive our lives may be at the moment, we have traditions to return to, reminding many of us that normalcy will return.
For the first time in six years I’ll be spending this Thanksgiving alone. That’s not a terrible thing…not really. I did it for years. Even though Phillip and I still live together, he has other plans, as he heads to South Florida to be with his family. Our yearly tradition for Thanksgiving was to have a big meatloaf dinner with mashed potatoes and peas, sweet potato pie with cool whip, while we plop with TV trays in front of a laptop to watch disaster films. It will be sad to see that tradition end.
I certainly don’t plan to spend Thanksgiving that way. To begin with, that sort of dinner just isn’t in my budget. Secondly, it wouldn’t be as much fun watching things blow up without my best pal to laugh with. He’ll also be gone for a few days. That never happened when we were married. But, in terms of our emotional separation, it will feel like we’re both moving on, for it will be the first time in six years that he wasn’t at home for even a single day…
I don’t have a problem being alone, God knows an agoraphobic relishes that. But, this is the first holiday since our divorce, and everything feels different. Yes, Phillip may be here at the end of the day to watch Jeopardy with, but he won’t be with me for the holidays. He has his family and his new friends to create traditions with. And I am so very happy for him.
I think I might go to Stasio’s Wednesday and grab a slice of lasagna for my Thanksgiving dinner, maybe knit, maybe not…I don’t know yet. It may just be like any other day: a box of White Castle’s from 7-11. Maybe I’ll find a new tradition just for myself.
I’m not sad about all of this…not exactly. I’m just not pleased, if that makes any sense. I’m not happy, but I’m not upset either. Maybe a few days apart with help me understand what Phillip’s life would look like in mine if I finally did move out and on with my own life, leaving him to pursue his own endeavors. Maybe I’ll get a glimpse of what life post divorce really does look like. And that’s probably for the best.
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