Thanksgiving: Bitter Sweet Memories
Mere coincidence or faith, I have no answer..
Thanksgiving: Bitter Sweet Memories
Mere coincidence or fate, I have no answer..
I was born in a country where Thanksgiving is not part of our holidays. However, we have a town fiesta in honor of patron saints, a tradition we inherited from the Spaniards, being a colony for more than 365 years. Our village celebrated this tradition every 24th of January in honor of Virgin dela Paz. It has been a tradition to butcher pigs as part of our ritual and feed more than 500 people or so. Our family since time immemorial has been the nucleus of our clan. It is the time when our relatives all over the world come home to celebrate this tradition. It is always a celebration to look forward to, as my father puts on." I am going to live for next fiesta." I love him say that for it is a known fact that his life is entirely in the hands of God. He is a fighter I believe, the bravest man I ever see, he escaped death many times in his life. I am very proud seeing him that way.
In the US it is different; it is celebrated with a bang far more lavish than Christmases and New Years. To the many, it is time to rekindle the flames of family affairs in a bounty dinner table.
To me, it offers bitter sweet memories.
It was Thanksgiving Day that my mother-in law died. A woman I was hoping can fill the motherhood longings I desperately need. I never have a chance to know my biological mother deeply; we were separated when I was 13 years old. Though now, we are back to each others arms, but we wasted so many years of being strangers. For a short period of time, I learned to love my Mom-in-law so dearly, and I feel that part of me died when she died. Every Thanksgiving day, I spent time in her grave trying to revive the memories, her kindness, her love for me and compassion.
It was Thanksgiving Day when my marriage ended, the day my husband betrayed me with lies and deceptions. Since then life was never been the same. Though I already accepted that some good things never last, but Thanksgiving Day reminds me that on that very day, the biggest battle of my life just started.
Thanksgiving Day as always remind me of Joshua, who is now an angel watching over me. Way back home, I spent quality time with Joshua with my family every fiesta. Every Thanksgiving dinner I spent with, the kids running around struck my heart with envy. I can see his face in one of those boys, his mannerisms and his naughty looks. It has been 8 years now since he died but still I am not over with it. I still silently cried at night, I still dream of him, think of him every time and love him more everyday. When he died half of my life died along with him. He made my 4 years on earth, the best years of my life.
But again life is more, I need to wake-up everyday and keep moving. No matter how much losses I have, there is a time for mourning and a time to face the challenges. Though I know that time heal all wounds, but the memories linger, bitter or sweet, they are there to remind me that I am human.
I just wish that one Thanksgiving Day in the future, I can face God and thank Him for whatever He let me endured. As for now, I still complain to Him, why He took away the people that are important to me. He has no answer yet.
Mere coincidence or fate, I have no answer..
I was born in a country where Thanksgiving is not part of our holidays. However, we have a town fiesta in honor of patron saints, a tradition we inherited from the Spaniards, being a colony for more than 365 years. Our village celebrated this tradition every 24th of January in honor of Virgin dela Paz. It has been a tradition to butcher pigs as part of our ritual and feed more than 500 people or so. Our family since time immemorial has been the nucleus of our clan. It is the time when our relatives all over the world come home to celebrate this tradition. It is always a celebration to look forward to, as my father puts on." I am going to live for next fiesta." I love him say that for it is a known fact that his life is entirely in the hands of God. He is a fighter I believe, the bravest man I ever see, he escaped death many times in his life. I am very proud seeing him that way.
In the US it is different; it is celebrated with a bang far more lavish than Christmases and New Years. To the many, it is time to rekindle the flames of family affairs in a bounty dinner table.
To me, it offers bitter sweet memories.
It was Thanksgiving Day that my mother-in law died. A woman I was hoping can fill the motherhood longings I desperately need. I never have a chance to know my biological mother deeply; we were separated when I was 13 years old. Though now, we are back to each others arms, but we wasted so many years of being strangers. For a short period of time, I learned to love my Mom-in-law so dearly, and I feel that part of me died when she died. Every Thanksgiving day, I spent time in her grave trying to revive the memories, her kindness, her love for me and compassion.
It was Thanksgiving Day when my marriage ended, the day my husband betrayed me with lies and deceptions. Since then life was never been the same. Though I already accepted that some good things never last, but Thanksgiving Day reminds me that on that very day, the biggest battle of my life just started.
Thanksgiving Day as always remind me of Joshua, who is now an angel watching over me. Way back home, I spent quality time with Joshua with my family every fiesta. Every Thanksgiving dinner I spent with, the kids running around struck my heart with envy. I can see his face in one of those boys, his mannerisms and his naughty looks. It has been 8 years now since he died but still I am not over with it. I still silently cried at night, I still dream of him, think of him every time and love him more everyday. When he died half of my life died along with him. He made my 4 years on earth, the best years of my life.
But again life is more, I need to wake-up everyday and keep moving. No matter how much losses I have, there is a time for mourning and a time to face the challenges. Though I know that time heal all wounds, but the memories linger, bitter or sweet, they are there to remind me that I am human.
I just wish that one Thanksgiving Day in the future, I can face God and thank Him for whatever He let me endured. As for now, I still complain to Him, why He took away the people that are important to me. He has no answer yet.
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