Passing the Turkey......and the Emotional Labor
Well, Thanksgiving is next week and once again, Matt is working. But not to worry, I'll be participating as always in the Thanksgiving Day race (I haven't decided if I want to do the 5K or the half marathon) treating myself to a solo lunch of one person plus one doggie, watching Stranger Things with Mavs, and solo cooking for dinner that night at Ashleys.
This holiday with the in-laws is one I always look forward to, but it's next Saturday that I'm silently dreading.
The Thomas family Thanksgiving is next Saturday at my house. Just my parents, me and Matt, and then my brother and his wife. Lately my days have been a full-body marathon — morning workouts, nonstop work, and then deep cleaning at night to get everything ready. I’ve been juggling it all while quietly trying to save enough energy to make my home feel warm and welcoming.
And if I’m being honest, I’m hosting Thanksgiving this year for one reason:
my parents.
Not for the aesthetic.
Not for the joy of cooking a feast.
But because without me, there wouldn’t be a holiday gathering at all.
And here’s where the tea comes in.
My brother and I have always had a rocky relationship. We've not been remotely "close" since we were children. He can be… an asshole. Just plain and simple. Not just with my parents, but historically with me as well. For a brief period, we looked “close” as adults and after I was married, but that was during a long stretch of his single life when he simply needed company. Looking back, it wasn’t closeness — it was convenience.
Then he met his wife, and everything shifted.
From the very beginning, she decided she didn’t like me. No big moment, no conflict, no misunderstanding — just an unspoken, unexplained dismissal. She’s actually a bigger introvert than I am (if you can imagine that), so our interactions have been minimal. Truly minimal. Like, three sentences in several years minimal. Still, my brother made it clear early on while they were dating that she “wasn’t a fan” of mine.
They dated for just a few months before he popped the question, he even wanted me to help him look for rings which I did like a dutiful daughter. Little did I know what awaited me. We won’t even unpack the absolute jilting he put me through leading up to their wedding — the kind of heartless behavior that made Matt want to rip him a new one. It really felt like I was holding back the Hoover to keep Matt from burning that bridge with his brother-in-law. He finally conceded to not do anything out of love for me and my deepest desire to keep the peace for my parents sake. Matt doesn't play when it comes to anyone being unkind to me especially him. But I held the line, swallowed the hurt, and smiled through it all for my parents.
Now here we are, three years later, barely speaking. The kind of silence that sits heavy, not loud. The kind that feels more like distance than peace.
So yes — hosting hurts a little.
Because I know we’re not close.
Because I know my parents feel that gap.
Because I know I’m the one desperately trying to make something feel whole that hasn’t been whole for a very long time.
And yet… I’m still doing it.
Because my parents deserve a cozy holiday season surrounded by all their kids (and granddoggie). They deserve warmth, not tension. Togetherness, not the quiet ache of a fractured family dynamic because of two people.
So I’m pulling everyone together — smoothing the edges, lighting the candles, deep cleaning after long days, doing the invisible emotional work of making it seem like everything is fine, we’re fine, I’m fine.
Even when I’m not.
The truth is:
I’ve done nothing to deserve my sister-in-law disliking me.
I’m just myself — and somewhere along the way, that became offensive.
But here’s the other truth:
Sometimes the holidays aren’t about picture-perfect moments.
They’re about choosing love even when it’s complicated.
About showing up when it stings.
About holding the family together when no one else will.
And maybe — just maybe — this year will feel a little softer than the last.
Maybe effort counts.
Maybe love lands.
Maybe peace, however small, will find its way to the table.
And honestly? Even if it’s only for my parents, it’s so worth it.
Here's some cheerful fluff to brighten up anyone's sad day! Mavs loves cooler temps for longer walkies. And yes, for anyone wondering, he absolutely will be dressed up for Thanksgiving lol
Love you all and can't wait to see everyone at the Thanksgiving Day race!!! 💖
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