Thanksgiving Dinner

I had the night off thanks to the good old American holiday called “Thanksgiving.” (Despite living miles away from Uncle Sam’s people, they have power over me now, and as a requisite, I abide by their holidays.)

I don’t know much about Thanksgiving other than it is spent during the last Thursday of November and that a lot of Turkey turns into every dinner table’s superstar during its celebration. I had to Google “Thanksgiving” in order to be reminded of what the essence of that day is for Americans, and apparently, for Canadians as well. I think I Google it every year but the facts never stick to me. Perhaps I really am no American!

But then, my brain’s refusal to absorb Thanksgiving facts is no reason for me not to indulge on my own thanksgiving dinner, especially since apart from the night off, I have one more thing to be grateful about: I got my first real paycheck after 6 months of financial lull. I found it best to treat my family with my latest hard-earned cash.

Tiendesitas seemed convenient. It had the perfect ambiance, it was relatively close, and I can afford the food and the trip. The last time I brought my family there was two years ago, after I got my 13th month pay. We had dinner and then rode the kalesa. Twice.

I hate to compare but Tiendesitas then was better. Perhaps because more of us were present then and none of were dead. This time, Nichi’s gone, my mom’s away, and my brother was late. I think I am being objective when I say that our table, with the bilao meal as center piece, was the most somber table that night. I notice those things and I feel pangs of sadness.

But I still am thankful for what remains of my family. They never cease to be special to me, after all.

* * *

I think it is interesting to note that on our way home, I felt compelled to mumble (or hum), “It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.”



If you live around here, you will sing that song, too.