Thanksfaking

The holidays will never be the same again.  Now that he’s gone.  But, neither will any interaction between her and his side of the family.  Not now.  Not after facing every drop of paternal poison, like popped pimples between her fingernails.  She figured the scars had healed by now, tricked by loose scabs just itching for a holiday picking.  See, that’s what happens when family oozes out the wood works.

The night before Thanksgiving, one of the daughters called.  Oh how she favors that one so much.  Krystal hadn’t seen her since the funeral, hadn’t spoken to her in months.  She missed her.  Just not enough to risk her frayed threads of sanity.  “You never know,” Krystal thought, “what if she needs a ride over.  You-know-who would be more than happy to oblige.”  Eyeballing the familiar number on her caller id, Krystal could hear it now, “WE thought WE’d drop by to see you…it’s been too long.”  Against her usual boldness, Krystal decided to take the coward’s way out.  Screen caller id the rest of the evening.  When the daughter called again, as much as she wanted to reach out to her, Krystal was conveniently too busy and too sore from a recent car accident to answer.  Before turning in for the night, Krystal sat on the side of her bed, and reviewed her call log  — three missed calls.

She felt him the moment sunlight announced it was Thanksgiving.  The first major holiday without her Dad.  Only time would tell if she’d make it through the day.

They ordered Thanksgiving dinner in this year, Krystal, hubby, the kids, and her Mama.  All it took was a 3rd grade reading level to prepare the meal.  “What do we put the spinach casserole on?”, her hubby asked.  “Here are the heating instructions…”, Krystal replied, pretending to be busy stirring the greens.  Actually, the greens were stirring her.  Collard greens.  Her Dad’s favorite ‘green’ to cook.  The scent of her Mama’s succulent collards triggered flashbacks so vivid, they almost took her breath away.  She’d avoided eye contact all morning, but now, she needed close contact before her knees gave out.  “If only I could make it to the half bath unnoticed”, she hoped in vain.  Passing her Mama on the way, Krystal fell onto her Mama’s neck, her body jolting through every silent sob.

“It’s OK, baby.  You missing him, huh?” Krystal grabbed a stray paper towel on the counter, equally dazed by the fact that she cried on her Mother’s shoulder –  “when’s the last time that happened?” — fatigued by the painful weight of family secrets swirling through her mind, and the frightening sound of ringing cell phones.  This time?  Uncle Reuben, her Dad’s older brother.

“Heyyy girl…where you been?”  She was cold busted.  It was easier to ignore one of the daughters’ calls — she wasn’t an elder.  She couldn’t do Uncle Reuben like that.  “Umm, hey Unc…how are you?” “Girl, you know I don’t ever see or hear from you….I got back surgery coming up in a few weeks……Hey, do you ever hear from….?”

Krystal’s heart stopped.  That name.  She wondered why hearing that name still made every cell in her body ache.  “No, I haven’t seen many folks since the funeral, Unc.  I…I just…it’s just that…” Krystal broke again.  “It’s just been too hard to be around family, Unc.  I know I owe you an apology, I’m so sorry, it’s just too much for me right now…”  “Don’t worry hun, if you don’t call me, I’m gonna check up on you, it’s gonna get better.”

The meal was beyond scrumptious.  Standing in the kitchen with her plate, contemplating Round 2, the cell phone rings.  Krystal’s brother.  She figured he was a safe ‘answer’, more standoffish and to himself than she has been lately.  No harm in answering…

“Wassup, man?!” “Hey big sis…we’re all over here at the house…”  “We’re?”, Krystal thought.  Immediately her heart began to pound like a jackhammer.  “Cool, well umm, tell everyone I said hello.”  “Hey, wait a minute, let me put you on speakerphone…”

Before her brother could press the button on his end, her mask slid effortlessly in place, right on cue.  Krystal’s voice, level and confident, floated through the receiver like the aroma of freshly baked bread.  She knew her Mama and hubby would pick up on her sudden emotional shift.  She didn’t care. For someone who can’t stand fake people, she was about to win an Oscar.  She had to protect herself, and survive the moment.  She could ftake it…

“Hey everybody!  Happy Thanksgiving!” Krystal’s Mama glanced up at her, then back at her plate.  Mamas always know, even when they don’t say.  Krystal carried on with that side of the family, never missing one witty beat.  The dodged daughter was in the room.  “Girl, where you been…I’ve been trying to call you.” Then without warning, that voice chimed in.  “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie!”  Ain’t this some bull$#@!

Sweetie?!!  Sweet?!!  Ohhh, I get it….the taste of my innocence as a child, right?  Krystal didn’t know whether to vomit, go on a cursing rampage, tell every secret right there on speakerphone, or drop dead.  All viable options, except one.  The very sound of that voice awakened the nightmares, the sadness, the heartache.  Flashbacks of deeds left unspoken til this day, for a little girl who used to speak so highly of them.  “After all that hard work in therapy, hadn’t I forgiven?  When will their presence stop strangling the life outta me?  When will it just stop hurting?”

All of today’s questions would have to wait in line for now…take a number after the multitude of “Why’s”.  Now serving #354,466,498…..

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i dunno what’s up with the 3rd person stuff.  it just started coming out of me like that, so i went with it.  i’m much gooder *smile* than last week…just…i dunno yet…workin’ it out, i guess .