Feast?

My family has gone through many changes over the past five years. I grew up accustomed to large thanksgivings, often times with so many people that I felt somewhat annoyed. Three years ago was the first Thanksgiving where I sensed the changes. My memory of this evening has blurred because of my disappointment. What I do remember is that there were about eight people at the table, all eating in silence, and there may have been some small talk. I was in the stage of cutting down on my meat eating, and a large, ugly turkey looked at me while I ate my food. My mothers spirit was gone, which added to the awkward sense I felt next to my soon to be step mother. Having been so young when my mother died, many memories of her have been blurred. But I can remember the Thanksgivings that would take place then, back in the day. My mom would mostly be in charge of the dishes, but each of us took part in cooking. One year I remember wanting to make a ginger bread house. My mom gave in to me, and when I realized that I hated the taste, I continued to eat it out of pride. The Thanksgiving during the year my mother was first diagnosed was difficult, but we had a great time. We all held hands and shared what we were thankful of that year. It got really emotional, largely because of my mothers presence.  I can remember speaking and laughing so hard that my grandmother came out of her room to smack me in the face. I got a bloody nose, cried, and then laughed about it later.

For many Americans, eating is an important social activity, but the very act of eating, and of consuming food, is often taken for granted. For example, we take for granted that when we eat organic material, (i.e. meat, fruit, vegetables) we are consuming life. Many Native Americans understood this and gave thanks to the spirits of the plants and animals that sustained their lives. This is even an issue that comes up in Avatar. The people of Pandora say a prayer even after they kill animals that were trying to hurt them because they understand that were all connected as living beings. You might think that at a holiday like Thanksgiving, we would not only give thanks for our loved ones, and for our material blessings, but also for the living foods that we consume. However, I don't think most people do. People sit around, stuffing themselves until they can't get up, maybe they watch some football or have a few drinks. The pilgrims and native Americans who mistakenly helped them, rarely come up as a topic of discussion.

Last year, my father and step mother broke our family tradition of having a large Thanksgiving dinner at our home. Instead, we went to my step mothers parents house in Virginia. While I didn't dislike my time there, I was struck by how different the celebration was there in comparison to what I had known. There were no words of thanks before we ate: no holding of hands in unity: we didn't even wait for everyone to get to the table and eat at the same time. It was pretty different. My step mom has an uncle named Ira with bipolar disease. I was fortunate to meet him while he was calm- not high, and not low. Last year Ira shared some of the songs that he had written and had us laughing with stories from my step mothers childhood. This year, he was down, and ate in silence.

I guess Thanksgiving is a difficult time for people with bipolar disorder and for vegetarians like me. Unless we really focus on what it means to give thanks and unless we slow down to chew our food, to think about where it comes from, and how it might affect our bodies, then Thanksgiving is just another day.