This Thanksgiving will be different.

Since Hope socially transitioned her gender this summer some family members have reached out and expressed their love and support. Some people in our extended family have stayed in the background defining Hope’s transition as “my mistake” and “my decision”. Rather than talk with me directly, they have chosen to gossip about my family like we were the topic of a catty talk show where loud women sit around and judge others. Needless to say, this changes holiday plans significantly.

After writing an article about sparing your holiday nightmare, I started to think about what that means for us. This year we opt to host a celebration in our new home. I know, how insane to have a holiday dinner only 5 days after moving in! Nevertheless, we can’t go backwards and do things like we have for years. Things have changed and I feel the need to create new traditions and celebrations to keep my family safe.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons we opted to move into a larger home, to have the ability to create the memories we long to cherish. A warm house filled with love and laughter. A big table filled with those we love and who genuinely love us. Sure, the table might be scarcely filled at first, but watch as the guest list grows year by year.

My fondest memory of the holidays is a solitary one. After the clanging of pots and pans invaded my dreams, I peered at the bedroom door of my youth to find the glow of the kitchen light creeping up the stairs. I’d close my eyes and savor the smell of Grandma’s bread baking in the oven. I didn’t call out. I didn’t get up. I didn’t help my mother. I just stayed there- safe and secure as the holiday dinner simmered in the hush of the early morning hours. Even though it only happened at Thanksgiving and Christmas, I waited for that moment all year like an addict. I never told anyone. Guess I didn’t want anything to change. As if my acknowledgement would affect the sequence and ruin my treasure forever.

It’s funny. I am not even sure when I experienced that moment in person for the last time. Still, I hold it dear to me like an expression of love. I guess what I crave more than anything is the feeling of security and the knowledge that I know what is happening next. The very thing that I’ll never experience in my parent’s home again.