jaimes

I consider myself to be a pretty thankful person. I try to mentally list all the haves in my life before I go to bed at night. It’s my own kind of prayer. My family is always right there at the top of the list, and I never forget to mention my grandparents. This was my first Thanksgiving away from home. Since I just moved to Atlanta, I made the choice to stay in the area for Thanksgiving and go to Virginia for Christmas. Until this year, I’d spent every Thanksgiving at my grandparent’s house in Virginia Beach.

As Thanksgiving approached, I was pretty bummed thinking about my family and all the food I would miss out on. My grandpa always cooks the ham and turkey, and each family brings a side dish. All the usual stuff like candied yams, green bean casserole, stuffing, cornbread, split-top rolls (which we like to call coochie rolls…) and lots of mashed potatoes. We double up on mashed potatoes because one year we ran out before my aunt had any, a tragedy we still refer to as the year of the potato famine. To cheer myself up on the eve of Thanksgiving, I sat down to watch that new sit-com, Modern Family. I like the show. I enjoy a little dysfunction, especially when it’s funny. The theme usually involves some family drama that, in the end, is always beat out by putting family first. My family has a talent for making light of the negative, so I guess I can relate. But this Thanksgiving, our glass-half-full philosophy was tested more than ever before. About halfway through the show, I got a call from my mom. “Daddy died,” she said. By Daddy, she meant my grandpa Owens, the charismatic leader of every household in my family. I fell to the floor and sobbed into the palms of my hands.

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