Thanksgiving

As humans, one is bound to have a feeling of disappointment at one point in their lifetime. The questions is, towards whom? Ah, even I, as an individual who easily forgives, have my limits. What is this limit? If one fails to fulfill a scheduled time. This is only due to one of my pet peeves - patience. As of now, I have 17 years of existence, and yet the phrase “patience is a virtue” does not seem to stick. That being said, my experience with disappointment dealt with impatience by waiting for the arrival of my parents and brother for last year’s Thanksgiving dinner.
Thanksgiving, the holiday to give thanks to be with the ones you love and enjoying each other company. Not to mention the fact that by the end of the day, people are tired from stuffing their faces with all the delicious food. The three days of Thanksgiving are truly the best of the year, with days worth of nonstop food. However, every family has their pre-Thanksgiving tradition. Some enjoy sports, some plot out food plans in a military-like manner. My family watches our family members play baseball, which end up in verbal arguments against the referee. Last year, my sister and I grew bored of the baseball games because it truly is the same thing each year. Our boredom led to the decision in staying home to cook the dinner.
The meal took at least 8 hours to cook. I was only an assistant to my sister, who already had decided what the courses would be days ahead. I was shocked by how much I had to do - slicing vegetables, washing dishes, setting up pans, and so on. By the end of the meal’s preparation, I was tired. I glared at the food in frustration that it took longer than I thought it should. I forgave it, a few minutes later. Hunger is my weakness. I took my portion of the piping hot meal, composed of turkey, stuffing, pies, and more. By the end of the meal, I was proud that I was able to take part in this wonderful creation.
Hours passed by. I managed to eat a second portion of the meal, and yet my parents and brother had not arrived. I starred at the clock for hours, wondering when they would come. They said they would come as soon as the game was over, which is usually at 5:00 p.m. My sister is less patient being in comparison to me, so she called my aunt on her cell phone. When my aunt passed the phone to my mother, she was frustrated and in a harsh tone she said, “Why aren’t you guys her yet?!?!?!” I was anxiously waiting for the response on the other side, next to my sister. I didn’t get to hear because my sister hung up the phone too quick. What I understood was that my parents and brother decided to go to an after game party in San Bernardino after the game. I was disappointed. Out of all individuals, I felt betrayed my own family. All those hours in the kitchen, all that work for nothing. It was a huge gaping hole into anger, frustration, and, above all, disappointment.
People gave up our hopes too easily. One would expect Thanksgiving the day when people stay in the houses and spent time with family. This assumption is truly incorrect, as individuals, who knew my mother, kept knocking at the door every hour or so. The person who gave us a huge glimpse of false hope was my uncle. He is living with us only temporarily, but as soon as he opened the door with his keys our eyes sparkled. I remember the door knob turning in slow motion, but when I ran to see who it was I was disappointed once more. This time disappointment came in the form of false hope. We prepared his plate, since he was the first individual to come. Oh but his meal did not stop there. We stuffed him until he could not be stuffed anymore. He truly enjoyed the meal, and we were happy that at least someone was able to appreciate our hard labor.
My mother and brother did not show up until the next day. Their excuse was because my father was not in the mood for driving. In fact, they had to hitch a ride with some relatives in order to get back that same day. We were appalled, but forgave them nonetheless, because like us, they too were victims. Now when my father showed up the next day, we did not serve him his plate, since he did not bother to come home the previous day. Why? His brother, along with his wife, decided to visit. I should have known this was coming. My disappointment turned into annoyance aimed towards relatives that I did not want to see.