It’s Thanksgiving week in the US, and we are bombarded with messaging telling us how to feel. Well wishes telling us to be thankful, or to gather and enjoy each other.
The first year, I was annoyed and angry. I wanted to scream when faced with messages of gratefulness. Do not tell me to be thankful when my life has been flipped upside down. I was sad and missing my husband, I saw no point in faking joy.
Three years later, I still stand by that sentiment. I don’t have to pretend to bask in a cornucopia of thanks. It’s okay that I am not thankful to be a widow. Thanksgiving and it’s focus on family, is always a reminder of that loss. We don’t set an empty place at the table for Tony, but we all know who is missing.
Yes, there are many things in my life that I am thankful for, but I don’t have to shout them from the rooftop just because it’s Thanksgiving. I still get to be annoyed at the messaging.
After three years, it has gotten a little easier to get through the day. The laughs with family come a little more naturally. It doesn’t sting as much watching other couples display affection for one another. This holiday will always be a poignant reminder of what we had and lost; it is no longer just for thanks.
