Oops I… Came home for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

I smirked as I posted a work selfie on my Instagram story captioned, “Crazy day, no one talk to me”. I clicked post as my plane took off. 

Since January, I’ve had a nagging daydream of me bursting through the door of my aunt’s house for Thanksgiving and being met with tears and screams of joy. 

I hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving with my family since 2019, and while sweet Friendsgivings in Paris always warm the heart, there’s something so iconic about the Midwest in autumn. My heart was longing for everything that wasn’t quite the same in Paris. 

I wanted to see the light dancing through the changing leaves. See the steam wafting upwards and hands cupped around hot chocolates. To see cozy sweaters, bundled scarves, and cold ears. To see my family. 

I set the wheels of my plan in motion around July when my cousin came to visit. For the next few months, I concocted my plan, scheming with my cousins and promising a slow and painful death to whoever spilled the secret. Tickets were bought, plans were set, and pacts were made. 

Home-Bound

Years ago, I decided that lying had no use, I was an adult and I made my own decisions. If there was something I didn’t want to share, I wouldn’t; but when I shared something, it’d be the truth. However, my fictional storytelling skills had a brief reprise when my parents unexpectedly called me. I sat in my friends car, having just landed in Chicago, when I saw several missed calls from my parents. I brought my storytelling skills out of retirement, telling my parents about my long work day, the lovely dinner I made with a friend, and the metro ride that I was ‘currently’ on to go home. Honestly, I was so good I scared myself. 

I gave and received updates from my brother and cousins on our dedicated notes page (yes… I went that far) as I prepared to make the 3-hour drive to Michigan on hour 16 of my travel day. 

After the obligatory immediate stops for tacos and Target, I took off to Michigan, blasting music and screaming lyrics, desperately trying to keep myself awake and alert as I drove for the first time in months. 

A few Adele albums later, I pulled into that familiar house in that familiar culdesac in that familiar town. 

I burst through the door of my aunt’s place, met with faces of shock and confusion, screams, and tears of joy. 

Games, Malta, bright leaves, Caribbean food, Mariscal, Salsa, falling snow, family… it was a perfect Thanksgiving, and a perfect surprise. 

Thanks to my co-conspirators for making this Thanksgiving a memorable one…. And sorry Mami for nearly giving you a heart attack. 

Happy Holidays everyone!