A Thanksgiving Dinner Conversation

A Different Kind of Thanksgiving

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving 🍁

This year, I will be spending Thanksgiving on my own. It's not something I feel the need to hide, because I know I won't be the only one sitting at a table without the people they love around them.

A few years ago, I made the decision to leave behind the life I knew and move to Prince Edward Island. I needed to explore my own path, seek my own truth, and understand more deeply who I am and why I am here.

It was a decision I made for myself, but that doesn't mean it came without a cost.

My children are far away, and on weekends like this, I feel that distance a little more deeply.

I've been reflecting on family lately. Not just my own, but the way we, as human beings, have slowly allowed the connections that once brought us together to fracture.

Over the last ten years, I have witnessed this within my own family I grew up with. Holidays that once brought us together became fewer and fewer.

Relationships changed. Distance grew. And somewhere along the way, being apart became our normal. In truth became a relief. 

Let's be honest now. I hear it in the line ups at the grocery store more often than I wish to admit. I hear it from some of my clients.

In my own family we were all carrying our own pain. Perhaps we were even running from it, each in our own way.

And I was no exception.

But there is something about sitting with the consequences of our choices that invites us to see life differently.

I look back now and wonder how many moments could have been different? How many conversations were never had? How many invitations were never extended?  How many times pride, hurt, fear, or simply not knowing how to find our way back kept us apart?

I wonder how many families are living this same experience?

 How many mothers are missing their children? How many children are waiting for a parent to reach out? How many siblings have become strangers? How many people will spend this Thanksgiving pretending the distance doesn't hurt?

And perhaps the hardest question of all.

When did we become so willing to live without one another?

 And perhaps this is where I want to challenge all of us, myself included.

 When did we become so comfortable forgetting about the person down the road who lives alone? The sibling we haven't spoken to in years? The parent, the friend, the neighbour who may be sitting at a table wishing someone had thought to invite them?

 Have we become so consumed with our own lives, our own pain, and our own reasons for keeping people at a distance that we've forgotten the simplest expression of love?

 A simple invitation that could mean more than we might know.

 A place for them at the table.

 A reminder that someone still matters.

 I'm not suggesting we abandon our boundaries or pretend that painful experiences never happened. I know firsthand that some distances exist for very good reasons. 

But I am asking us to question how easily we've accepted disconnection as a way of life.

 It's not a lifetime you're being asked to share with someone. It's a dinner.

 And perhaps that one dinner, that one invitation, that one act of remembering another human being could mean more than you will ever realize.

 I don't have all the answers. I certainly haven't lived this perfectly. In hindsight, there are connections I wish I had fought harder for. There are moments I wish I had understood what I understand today.

 But I cannot rewrite yesterday.

 What I can do is choose what I carry forward.

 And this Thanksgiving, despite the empty chairs and the distance between myself and those I love, I am deeply grateful.

 Grateful for the love I have known. Grateful for my children. Grateful for the experiences that have brought me to this understanding, even the painful ones.

 And grateful that my heart has not stopped believing in the power of family. The power of love. 

 So this Thanksgiving, I want to leave you with something to consider.

Reach out to someone.

Perhaps it's someone you haven't spoken to in a while. Someone you miss but haven't known how to approach. Someone who may be sitting alone, wondering if anyone is thinking of them.

 You don't have to resolve years of pain in one conversation. You don't even have to know what to say.

 Sometimes, I'm thinking of you is enough to remind another human being that they haven't been forgotten.

 Because I am beginning to understand that one of the greatest losses we experience isn't always the loss of love itself.

 It's the loss of our willingness to reach for one another.

 And maybe, just maybe, we can begin changing that.

 From my heart to yours, I wish you a beautiful Canadian Thanksgiving.

 Whether your table is full or you are sitting quietly on your own, I hope you feel the presence of love in your life.

 With BIG LOVE and DEEP GRATITUDE, 

Patrice oX

Founder of Odyssey Lighthouse