It's been a day surrounded by anxiety and depression for over 12 years. I don't know why.
You didn't die near Thanksgiving.
You weren't born near Thanksgiving.
She didn't die near Thanksgiving.
She wasn't born near Thanksgiving.
It doesn't make sense.
This year, it makes me almost angry.
Except I'm not mad.
I just keep thinking about how Green Bean Casserole was your favorite part of the holidays and I wonder if it will taste like dirt this year without you.
Last year you said you were bringing it, but I was afraid you would forget and then you wouldn't have your favorite dish, so I made it and brought it too, and then we had two.
If I had known what a drastic change last year to this year would be, I would have relaxed and enjoyed the day more. I would have caught it in a bottle and saved it so that I could open it this year and you would be here with us, laughing at something I said about my kids or mom, , making it seem funny instead of bad, and the food would not even matter, except I would make sure you had that casserole still, because you missed it the year before, or was it the one before that?
I keep thinking about how things could have been, and I wish that I wouldn't do that, because it makes my heart and my head hurt, and I feel kind of sick, and I can't figure out why you're gone and now we won't laugh about the things our kids say to each other about us.
I feel like I've been crying my whole life about missing you.
Missing her.
And so...I keep telling myself I'm not mad, and I don't think I am.
I'm jealous, though, and that's uglier.
Jealous of my friends who laugh with their brothers and sisters about how it was when they were small.
Jealous of them not being sad, or not being heartbroken, or not being lost in grief.
Jealous if they're upset about their brother being a dick at Thanksgiving and not having to do whatever, or mad about plans changing, or inconvenienced, or anything else that they're allowed to feel because I get it, I do, but there's not really a way to describe that I wish you were here for me to be mad at for being a dick and making Thanksgiving tense.
It's really lonely on this side of things this year.
I keep wondering if it will get better soon.
Maybe the casserole will taste the same.
But I will always think of you.
