Day 225– November 20, 2014

I venture home next week to celebrate Thanksgiving with my parents and brothers. Recently, there has been little room in the inn. The family house has a bedroom for each son, but one son got married and had two children. Where to put everyone for family holidays?

My parents never travel and so do not understand the concept of hotels. A big move for them would be to sleep down the hall. Dad suggests papering the living room and basement with air mattresses. Or stack people upright.

He doesn’t understand that more important than spending time with family is being wanted back home. I spent one awful Christmas week sleeping in the basement. I felt like an unwanted piece of old luggage packed out of sight downstairs and re-opened for meals. So I slept eighteen hours a day in that basement as there was little else to do. The parents thought I was sick. No, just depressed, angry, and alone.

So I protest the proposed air mattresses and assert my need for a bed in a bedroom. I compromised to find accommodation elsewhere for my brother and myself on the Wednesday and Friday before and after Thanksgiving. I may end up on a different bed every night of my stay.

I wonder how other extended families handle lodging for holidays. When we were young, we attended family gatherings at the grandparents’ house but never stayed the night. Now I understand why.