Thanksgiving, done.

2003-12-01 at 10:48 p.m.

It's such a shame that Thanksgiving has to be linked with the horrible lies we retell about How America Came To Be. I think the idea behind Thanksgiving is top notch: take time to remember, remind yourself, of everything, big and small, that you're grateful for. To celebrate it with friends and family. To be grateful you can eat well, you can see your family, you can sleep in a warm bed at night. Gratitude. 'Scool.

I love Thanksgiving. This was, I think, the third Thanksgiving I've ever NOT spent with my parents and at least one sibling. The other sibling, the ungrateful wretch that she is, lives in France where, apparently, they don't give US citizens the week off to go get some turkey from their parents. Bastards.

But this year, I, like Lee, had to forgo the Michigan treat that is Eating Too Much and Playing Too Many Card Games. I had In-Laws this year.

Hee.

Andrew's family is Huge. HUUUUGE. His father has--I think--six brothers and sisters, his mom five. Or maybe it's the other way around. Or maybe it's five and four. I don't know. It's a lot. And they're all married, and they all have kids. And whether it's the paternal or the maternal side, everyone who can shows up for whatever is being celebrated, whether that's Easter or Thanksgiving or some birth or some birthday or some anniversary. And there's a jello salad for every occasion.

I still have to ask, "Okay, who's the guy that I talked to for twenty minutes about becoming a teacher?"

(I think that was Jim, Janet's husband. I'm still not sure.)

And like every family, there's the looney. And as the Resident Newcomer (after four years), I get seating next to them.

This year, I spent all of Thanksgiving Dinner, from the jello salad to the six kinds of pie, hearing J.W. spell countries' names to me, with the French spelling.

England: "They spell English A-N-G-... wait.. L-A-I. No wait, S."

Germany: "A-L-L-E-M-A-N-T."

"I think it's A-L-L-E-M-A-G-N-E."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure."

France: "F... R... A...?"

People. They spell France THE SAME WAY WE DO.

It was a very long meal.

I like Andrew's family, but I get a little overwhelmed. It's tough to be in a room full of people who still aren't entirely sure why we moved to Portland, but are FAR too polite to say so. Outright, anyway.

One thing it made me miss a little bit. Don't get me wrong, here: I love Portland. The pace, the size, the weather, the style, everything about this neck of the woods feels right. But there's something about having family right nearby, where stopping by Aunt Ruth's house wouldn't be a big deal, where scheduling who gets us for which holiday isn't an arm wrestling match because it just means we spend NEXT weekend at my mom's, where you really CAN see Cousin Becky at the drop of a hat, that's really really tempting. It's never been something I've had, and to hear everyone talk about it as if it's no big deal--because it just isn't--makes me a little sad and envious.

Then I realize how much we have, and that we can create the same kind of life out here. I am so grateful that Andrew was willing to take a chance like this for us when that was what he knew. So maybe it's just a matter of getting used to being the Family From Far Away.

Plus, I'm still learning how to avoid the loonies. And maybe the jello salad as well.

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