It's my dream to get us all at one huge table and have a huge feast with lots of food and drink and laughter, and who knows, maybe one day I'll be able to swing it. Because you're my family, and Thanksgiving is about giving and loving and bonding, and that's what families are about, and I have finally found mine.
There was never such a thing as Thanksgiving in Soviet Union. And in America I came to love this day for the thanks we give each other. I wish there was a day like that when I grew up, to celebrate gratitude. There wasn't one, and I wasn't brought up with a habit to thank people. I had to learn it later in life, and I was crushed at the realization of how many people I've never thanked for the things they did for me. So now I'm thanking you daily, for the littlest things, trying to catch up for all that lost time and to make you smile with my thanks, and to give love. I wish I could also hug you and kiss you every time I thank you.
Damn the distance. Damn the darkness of the post-election, and the fear and the divide and the doubts. I refuse to wallow in this misery, to let it consume me. I will dedicate myself to giving love, and I ask you to join me, this holiday season, in giving love to those around you no matter what. Forget politics. Forget family feuds. Forget disagreements. Just love. We're all in this together, and the only way out of this is staying together and loving one another and celebrating our differences. How boring would it be if we were all the same?
Just look at the picture above. Who do you want to be? What color? What shape? Pick one. (I think I'm the salivating wolf, ready to eat that angry turkey with the mustache). Wouldn't it be wonderful if every time we felt like biting off someone's head, we could express it in such a way that didn't hurt anyone? You know how to do it? Art. Make art. Make damn awesome art. It will help you stay positive and keep you from sliding into the pit of rage and despair and indifference. Draw a big blue monster angrily eating a sausage. Or write a story about him. Or put on a blue wig and dance. Make an effort. I know it's hard. I struggle with this myself. It's so easy to just fly off the handle and yell and punch the wall. To hell with it. Pour it into something beautiful. If we all did it, imagine what the world would be like? A huge feast with love and light and kindness in abundance (and lots of fried turkey, and alcohol; by the way, what do Americans drink on Thanksgiving? just so I don't get stuck with my usual vodka).
And so I thank you. For reading my ramblings here. For reading my books. For cheering me on when I'm depressed. For celebrating with me when I'm happy. For sticking around through all this years of my mad writing journey (it's been four years already, can you believe it?). For being my best friends, the friends I've never had before. For becoming my family. For welcoming me into your midst and for loving me just how I am. I love you. I'm here for you when you need me. And I'm grateful for you and everything you gave me. Without you I wouldn't be where I am now. Hell, without you I wouldn't be writing, simple as that.
Happy Thanksgiving! And if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving in your neck of the woods, simply a happy THANK YOU day to you! Eat. Drink. Laugh. Send pictures (and socks, of course; always). I shall now go do the whole cooking thing, Royce is waiting. So are the children. I'll be making my own cranberry sauce (spiked with vodka). Yum.