Final Thanksgiving
The last thanksgiving, I would spend with my parents while we were all alive was in 2010. I had already moved out and in with the Simpleton's because I was a cost to my parents, and my sister and I didn't get along, so our plan was to meet just myself, my mother, and my father at Julie's diner. I don't know how they acquired money to pay for the meal but they did and I tried to make it the most comfortable Thanksgiving, only bringing up positive past and present memories.
After we got our meals from the line we all sat at a table together near the windows. It was relatively empty maybe half filled so what we did, this being the only safe and non-confrontational place to spend time together, was after we ate we stayed another three hours talking. It got to the point where we had been there so long we were already hungry again, and the waitress stopped coming by every ten minutes to every 30, she didn't complain though. I think my father wanted dinner as well, but of course no money.
It really hurts these times and how the lack of money caused such a damaging impact in myself and my families' lives. We should have been going to family dinners all the time and spend generally more time getting to know each other as we all matured. Going on vacations, visiting Colleges together, experience the good that this life has to offer. Unfortunately, we were subjected to the opposite. Instead of joy we felt pain, instead of connection we found isolation, and instead of love there was hate.
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Searching for the Answer
Non-FictionThis is a compilation of stories involving childhood abuse and trauma through a first-person impactful perspective mostly chronological. It is my story and is not fabricated in any way. I am posting just to get feedback thank you.
