it is right to give thanks and pie…

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Yeah Christmas is nice, but on Thanksgiving there’s no bullshit. Niceties fall way to the strangeness that this your kin. There’s no feigning delight as you rip into presents from your not-so-present godparent; there’s food, small talk, and someone in the corner reading a book on their phone. I love Thanksgiving because there’s no pretending. Moreover, I love Thanksgiving because it reminds me of my grandma. She was the pie maker, the hostess, the reason why we all “gave thanks and praise.” She passed the week of Thanksgiving two years ago and my grandpa insists on hosting without her even though we all know that it’s not the same. But, alas, it means everything to him because it meant so much to her. Every year, she would make everyone their own pie - blueberry, cherry, pumpkin, apple, peach (for me obvi), and even a baby, chocolate pie for my baby sister. Here’s the lesson: at the end of the day everyone got that little bit of sweet relief that they didn’t know they needed after all the hours of small talk. My grandma knew we need that. Over everything, I love Thanksgiving because of togetherness that I feel now in sharing a meal with my non-strangers. And the realization that any day that ends in pie is one worth celebrating.