Tales From The Shelter – 34

It’s Thanksgiving.

I’m not particularily ‘happy’, but I am greatful.  Despite all history with Thanksgiving, coming up from past English and European harvest festivals, transgressing to some white guy in Canukville proclaiming it similar to the U.S.’ian version of First Nations and settlers, to an official government proclaimed holiday since the 1950′s…..I am just plain thankful for the roof over my head, the meals we get, the other women aboard the Silly Man Express, the workers here, my friends and family, blah blah blah.

It would be easy to be cynical, but then that’s the joy of cynasism…that it’s easy.  The complexities of simplicity , being a paradox, take hold of one sometimes and I couldn’t help but let the tears flow today.

A cousin had me over for two incredible meals.  I got there on my own without panic attacks, despite the rainy weather and over crowded busses.  I returned to a turkey meal served by staff , complete with dollar store decorations.  The turkey was turkey roll, of course, but there was stuffing, gravy, carrotts, brussel sprouts, soup and dessert.  The women from our floor and myself all took down our own plates, intending to be served on them then taking them back upstairs and eating on our own.

Somehow one of us wrangled our floor into staying, save for one who was out with family, and Bossy had retreated to her room knowing she would be disgusted by the meal.  That was alright though, that’s her.  Some mellow music was playing in the background, one of the Chaplain’s said a nice prayer and  we ate together, something we rarely do as we see each other up close and personal too often.

It was nice.  That’s a rather vague description but I don’t know how to put it any other way.  It was just plain nice.  I cried…I suppose it was all a mix of feeling thankful, having a love for the women on our floor despite being driven crazy by them….missing having my daughter out here, and my mother’s death around this time of year over 30 years ago.  It was the kind of cry where tears just rolled down the cheeks; a rather contained cry that purged some aches and pains out of my body and left me with some room to bring in the new.

New.

New.

I am ready for new.