Obligatory Thanksgiving Post

Here's my profound thought for the day: While we definitely learn from our parents, we don't necessarily learn what they think they're teaching.

I talked to my mom this morning, and we exchanged our typical Thanksgiving greeting (and I quote: "Gobble gobble") and discussed their meal. She's doing much of the cooking, and apparently did a lot of it yesterday, alternating cooking and baking with resting, as she had dialysis in the morning. She made her pumpkin pie yesterday (in the background, I could hear my father complaining good-naturedly that There Is No Mince Pie, his annual lament since my maternal grandmother died 15 years ago), the turkey was in the oven, my sister-in-law was bringing something (I forget what), and mom is doing some investigating with the nephews w/r/t christmas presents.

Of course mom also had to ask what I'm doing, to which I said, nothing, which happens to be true. (I did work out this morning (while watching Top Chef, more on which later), and I made one of the cookies on the list.) In response, she kind of . . . whimpered? Made a pitying noise? I don't know; hard to characterize it precisely. I laughingly said, I wish you wouldn't do that--has it it occurred to you that I might actually like this? And, of course, she cannot comprehend that in the least.

This gets to what I have learned. My mother of course wants me to be happy--what parent does not want that for his or her child? My mother, though, wants me to be happy in the ways she thinks I should be happy, not necessarily in the ways that actually make me happy. Of course those categories overlap in places, but so much of what I want is not what she wants for me, and, even after all these years, that disturbs her. I can articulate this now, obviously, but when I was 15, I knew it to be true but could not put words to it, which merely added a whole other layer of angst to the usual teenage thing. (The way I put it at the time was that my mother did not understand me--and, I added then, there is no way a 15-year-old can say that and be taken at all seriously. I knew it to be true, in a deeper way than is true for nearly every 15-year-old, and the subsequent 35 years have borne me out on this, but, as noted, 15-year-olds in general cannot expect that statement to be taken as anything other than Rebellion & Angst.)

What I learned, then, was to figure out what I want, and, as an extension, what the people around me want, as best I can. Not what I think is best for them (although I may well have opinions on that matter), but on what they want. It's true that good friends can help us figure out (a) what we want, or (b) whether the path we are taking is one that is likely to lead to a place we want to go. Very good friends can even help us see when what we truly want is at odds with what we are saying or acting as though we want. When push comes to shove, though, people want what they want, and what they want is not necessarily going to be the same as what you want. That is the essential bit my mother has never entirely understood, not least because so many of the people around her want pretty much the same things that she wants. The things I have wanted are so far removed from her world that she really cannot understand why I would want them or how I could be happy with what I have. On the other hand, she loves me deeply, and wants me to be happy, and that is enough for me.

As for the cookies, well, i tried the slightly revised ginger ones first, and--despite have bought oranges expressly for the purpose of putting orange peel in the cookies, forgot to put the orange peel in. I realized this after one tray had gone into the oven, so I grated peel into the rest of the batter, and it helped, but I am still not entirely satisfied with them. They do not suck, but they still need work. I also toasted the hazelnuts and skinned them, and I made some dinner, but I didn't do anything else much today. I have three more days to bake more cookies, do some laundry, and see a friend from the old company who is in town this weekend. There also will be lounging.

As for the christmas presents for the nephews, I am going to send some DVDs ("Whale Rider" will be one of them, as will at least one of the Blue Man Group DVDs) and possibly some books; I'm open to other suggestions. (I refuse to send gift cards to them.) I hope to have everything within a week or two. Because I am a pain in the ass, I am going to mail everything in such a way that a signature is required. Why would I do this? Because I did not get so much as a telephone call from either of my nephews for their birthday presents this year, and had to inquire of my mother whether they received the gifts. Yes, I could have called my brother, I suppose, but I was too annoyed to do that. (My brother and I exchanged birthday phone calls in July but otherwise have not spoken to each other this year.) Thus, someone will have to either be home or make a special trip to pick up the packages, in order that I can be sure they received the gifts without having to involve my mother in this transaction.

I am torn about all of this. I have realized that I am holding on to resentment about my brother and sister-in-law not bringing my nephews to our wedding. Well, that's not exactly it: it's more that my brother has never brought my nephews to see me. The older one is nearly 12, the younger one is 9, and they have never been here. They have been to Florida, and North Carolina, and Florida to see my SIL's family, but they have never been here. Indeed, my brother has been to visit me exactly twice in the 22 years I have lived here: when I got my Ph.D. and when I got married.

The thing is, I have gone to some lengths: I have visited my family maybe 30 or 35 times since I moved out here (seriously; that's not an exaggeration); I designed and made the birth announcements for both of my nephews; I have sent them gifts for birthdays and christmas; and Chuck and I visited multiple times, including at least twice, possibly three times, with CK, including a christmas trip one year. In return, I get . . . nothing. No phone calls, no thank yous, and certainly no visits. It is not clear to me why I should continue to expend a lot of effort on a relationship that apparently is of no importance to my only remaining sibling and his children.

This causes me great pain, of course, as I love them all dearly. I should add that I actually don't expect them to visit right now, because my brother is suffering greatly at work; the auto repair business is not one that is exactly booming. And I don't share much of it with my mother, either, because it pains her as well. I do ask about my nephews, and she tells me all about them.

I don't really know quite what to do. I get tired of making all the effort, and I certainly don't do that in any of the other relationships in my life. Ah, well, I'll think about it. I'll perhaps try to visit my parents at some point, and we'll see what happens then.

Meanwhile, I hope you all had lots of good food and no drama, and that you have off tomorrow, and that you're surrounded by love.