thanksgiving

i don't suppose we were ever the type of family
who held hands and said grace while dad carved the turkey
but then maybe we were, but without saying grace
and usually with only mom carving the meat
but still the contrast between then and now is glaring and cold
because the we did sit at a table, and pass everything around
not buffet style with the meijer sticker still on the pie
now it's just a bunch of us
family, i guess, but so awkwardly coming together
because we have to twice a year
turkey once, ham twice, & pie all around
no prayers or matching sweaters, no fine wine or slabs of brie
but theres faygo and doritos and lots of other things
for us to eat on paper plates
scarfing while perched on the couch arm
or standing in the doorway
we try to chat, or reconnect, or mingle
one attempt after another falling just a tad flat
everyone a little uncomfortable and waiting for it to be over
we draw names for Christmas, eat, eat, eat a little more
stuff it all in
and pretend to be thankful for it all

sneaking pumkin pie
out onto the back porch
so I can eat it all alone
i see my nephew there with an empty coolwhip bowl
and coolwhip on his face
and i pretend once again
that it's normal to be hiding while you eat something bad
and it's no big deal that he's gonna catch up with me
if he doesn't stop, before he's 12
but his pain is the same and i get it
i can see it in his tiny eyes
so akward. so hungry. so not ok.
i get this, so... i say "hey dude, whats up" and let it go
as he dropps the bowl behind the deck and I eat
my slice of pie
'hows school?" i ask, and he shrugs
while a moment of silence hangs in the air
"its okay" he says finally "we had cookies yesterday"
"yeah," i said "So did we.. at work I mean."
he smiles, laughs
and then we both walk back inside