Coffee, Death, and Thanksgiving

Its been a busy couple weeks for me. I worked my last shift as a barista at my old coffee shop where I worked for almost six years.  I had a bunch of people pop in and say goodbye, it was emotional for me. I knew it was going to be, it was almost as if I was attending my own funeral. I saw a ghost or two that day. And tried as I might I couldn't catch it. I really wish I could. I'm sure I'll be writing about my coffee shop fiasco soon.

I went out of town shortly thereafter to attend a real funeral of a friend that I've kept up with through the years. She and I dated briefly many many years back. I received word through the grapevine that she had got into a car accident and died on the way to the hospital. I took a train out, stayed in a hotel overnight, caught the funeral and traveled back the next day. It's amazingly odd to me, even with the things that I've been through, to see someone you were intimate with lying in a coffin. Nothing that you can do or say matters anymore. From that moment on, the story that the two of you were writing is done. The book forever closed. I know it's unfair, and that's the way it is, doesn't stop it from being shitty. I'll miss her goofy emails.

I did appreciate taking the train. There's something about a train, and a group of strangers that is pretty amazing. Trains slow things down. Taking a plane its all a hectic rush to get on, get through, and get off and out of the airport. But riding a train for some reason slows everything down. You meet people, discuss jobs, reasons for travel, family, news. Every time I take a train it seems like I end up having wonderful conversations with people. I always head to the food car and sit, usually reading a paper. And whenever anyone hears where I work, my goodness, the questions pour in.

Which brings me to tomorrow. Thanksgiving. Or in my curmudgeonly self would call it...Thanks for nothing, day. I'm not in a great place in my life. Mentally, I'm a wreck. If someone would have told me a year ago that this is what things would be like for me next year.....well, shit, I would have not believed it and I would have said, "Fuck, that really sucks. Really? Fuck."

I don't want to be reminded of anything anymore. Most of all my failures in this life. Every time I go out to my families I get this sick feeling inside that makes me want to withdraw even more than I already have. Its like inviting a homeless person to a really extravagant ballroom party. They look like shit, with their clothes all beat up compared to everyone else. They're hungry as all hell, and everything looks so wonderful and they probably gobble everything down but soon realize that after its all over, they're still homeless. I don't need to see my family to realize what I don't have, and how much pain that brings me. It makes me feel awful. I love my brother dearly. Theres nothing I wouldn't do for him in the whole world. It's not his fault he has what he has, and he deserves better than to have a brother who can't share in that joy for him. I suck as a human being sometimes. It doesn't make me feel any better about any of it. So........

I'm doing Thanksgiving myself. My way. I'm having a group of about 6-8 wayward friends over for dinner, football, and festivities. I'm making a 18 pound turkey (which is brining in a bucket as we speak), stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. We'll have green bean and almond casserole, fresh rolls, cranberry sauce, pumpkin and of course pecan pie. We'll have beers, and champagne, and some other shenanigans that some friends are bringing. There will be friends, and strangers. Acquaintances, and coworkers. Football, board games, cigars, and refreshments, all on full bellies.

I may not be getting to cook for the people that I had imagined that I'd cook for one day. But tomorrow I'll do what I do best, and that is to give.

Update: Great success