Thanksgiving

“Nobody means what they say on Thanksgiving, Mom. You know that. That's what the day's supposed to be all about, right? Torture.”

- Holly Hunter’s character, Claudia, in Home for the Holidays

I have a deep-seated almost irrational love of this film. The performances are amazing and perfect and lovingly rendered. The characters are all so flawed and human and familiar that you cannot help but feel they have spent time amongst your own lunatic family. It is a fond, self-aware love letter to that most dysfunctional of all holidays - Thanksgiving.

My own Thanksgiving is shaping up to be a classic - horrific and messy and tiring but very funny to look back on later - you know, the way Thanksgiving SHOULD be.

I’ve just had a long term relationship end. My parents are responsible for the grandparents this year which involves driving to the nursing home to get them and then trundle them back for the dinner... and then drive them home again when, in about two hours, they begin to complain and worry about whether or not anyone remembers that they have to go home. One sister will have children in tow and yell at them all day - sometimes completely at random as if to yell as a preventative measure. The other sister is not going to make it until Saturday which means that my mother will spend the day periodically lamenting that sister’s absence and speculating about why she doesn’t want to be with her family. My parents happen to be mad at my brother for something right now, so there is certain to be a row about that at some point.

Oh! and my parents have decided they don’t actually like Turkey, after all. So we will be having roasted chicken. There is bound to be trouble.

I’m bringing a good book and a lot of film. If there are any fights, I want to make sure I have pictures to share with the sister who isn’t arriving until the weekend. It’s not fair that she should miss this.