As the sun moves more and more over to the west my thanksgiving weekend comes to an end. It is the 35th year of my marriage, the eighth year where both my mother and Tariq have been absent at the Thanksgiving table and the first year for Rehan to celebrate with us with the pure innocence of the fitra that Allah gives to babies.
In looking back which I avoid doing nowadays Thanksgiving weekends have been milestones of emotional hairpin curves in my life, marked by a silent headstone for relationships past even though at that time I was not aware of the milepost that I was passing never to be the same again.
There was the Thanks giving when P’s sister fell critically ill with a cancer and a year later a thanksgiving when her husband left her for his best friends wife. Then there was the thanksgiving when H died and we had to hide the crying rom my mother because we wanted to ease in the news of his death slowly…….as in he is sick, critically sick and so on. Then there was the thanksgiving when my mother fell critically ill and came home after her first recovery and all of us siblings ate at one table after a very long time.
There have been others of estrangement from close family, and turning of paths some never to return again and some to patch up and move on. Some with children who are now adults and hold the memories of those cherished days of Thanksgiving on the Beach.
No matter what, I remain thankful for all the years when I have been a part of a thanksgiving dinner with loved ones and sometimes without the ones who have already departed.
Goodbye is a hard word to say and yet we say goodbye every moment to every moment………. Never to see it again and thus it is to this Thanksgiving weekend, as I turn away from the sand, the ocean and the breeze and head back south to the life that awaits me.