November 26

 

It is very late at night or very late in the morning, depending on how you look at things, and I can't sleep as it seems that I am in the throes of my frequent insomnia, but in a happy way. Yesterday, my family came over for Thanksgiving dinner as you know because I wrote about it, and it was great. And I'm not meaning great to toot my own horn, but truly, I am the Thanksgiving master. My turkey? Perfect and not at all dry or gross. My side dishes? Phenom. Even our dogs were on super cute behavior, so the day equaled NICE. We rescued Angelo from the home and even he ate and talked and interacted (as best as he can. He DID voice concern about the missing spoons from his pocket, which is kind of funny since he STOLE the spoons and he was worried that someone had stolen the stolen spoons. I laugh about it, but you know. You know, right?).

All day I've been thinking about the very first time I met Nick's family. Since it's so large (his family, I mean. Not anything else, perverts!) they decided that the best way to make sure everyone got to see everyone else was to get together the day AFTER Thanksgiving, and 10 years ago (Jesus! 10 years!) Nick invited me up to see how it all fit. I remember vividly waking in the morning at nothing o clock so that I could get to the pastry shop to walk to the subway to make it to the Metro North in time. I remember choosing what I'd wear like I was meeting with royalty (green silk suit, darker green shirt, heels. I was skinnier AND fancier then). The thing that I remember most of all, while I was getting ready was "This is important, THIS is going to mean something. This is the one".

I took the train up. It was empty. I had a giant box of pastries with me. I checked my hair (I had a lot more back then. Thanks, alopecia!) and makeup obsessively because remember, I felt, no--I knew--somewhere deep in the heart of me that this was the important one. I arrived in New Haven and I recall with perfect clarity knowing that Nick would be there waiting for me, knowing the time of the train, but rather than going to meet him right away, I went to the bathroom. The bathroom felt safe to me, because the very first time I came up here-- for a home cooked meal that Nick owed me from a bar bet, that I had made because I KNEW--I knew. Anyhow, the first time I came up, I wore something to work, and when I got to the station, I ran to the bathroom and changed everything I was wearing--I'd carried ALL DAY a dry cleaned silk shirt. In a plastic bag, I carried a skirt, tights and heels. The person I was when I walked into the bathroom that very first night, and the person I was when I walked out were two totally different people.

And I know this story is about the first day-after Thanksgiving, but I just remembered another thing. After I spent the first night here, and I KNEW, as I mentioned, I knew that I didn't want to leave. Gentle readers, I lied. I lied to my future husband. I pretended to call home to NY. And when I hung up the phone I said "The pope is in NY!! ALL THE TRAINS ARE CANCELLED". I never knew whether or not he believed me, but he let me stay. I'm going to have to ask him. Heh. I'm a damn dork.

Anyhow, I was back in the bathroom on the day after Thanksgiving , changed into a suit and heels and hair and all the hope and promise I felt when I was 25. I readied myself and walked outside, and there was Nick, waiting, with his dog--soon to be one of OUR dogs in the front seat of his Dodge Colt. He drove me over to his sister's house giving me a pep talk. "Look, don't be offended if they don't talk to you!" "They're not used to me bringing anyone over!" "it's TOTALLY not you!!!"

That day, I met the woman who would become my best friend (Tina), and guys who kidded with me, and kids who wrapped themselves around my legs, already calling me "Aunt Dana". Was it because I brought pastries from Brooklyn? Possibly. Was it because I was the only woman brave enough to show up? Yeah, that's likely. But after the day had ended, I understood that THEY understood. They talked to me like I was already in the family. I'd passed the test, even though I was way, way WAY fucking overdressed. So maybe, maybe beyond everything else, that's why I love Thanksgiving. Because it gave me a new family and a new life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please note! If you're into the yearly card exchange thing, please send me your address!!!!! Last year was kind of lame in terms of cards. This year, I'm ON IT.

 

 

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