Parting is Never Goodbye

Like most families, mine had a Thanksgiving tradition we kept up until I began college. For my entire childhood I remember it like this: Our Thursday nights were spent driving around every corner of San Jose, trekking across the town until we finally reached our grandparents' house off McLaughlin Blvd.

When we arrived, hugs were passed around until the adults would adjourn to the family room to have beers and begin conversations about the weather, jobs, their kids, and whatever else adults talked about. Meanwhile, the cousins would collect in the living room and catch up on our lives while munching on some array of Asian dishes either homemade or ordered from one of the family friends. Outside, it was pitch black; the late autumn skies cold and starless.

Things began to change as college came around the corner. I don't even remember my last Thanksgiving when everyone was still around. Had I known there was a "last Thanksgiving" together, perhaps I would have tried to appreciate it more. But then again, life always seems to enjoy playing that little game with us. You never know what you have until it's waving 'goodbye' from a hilltop as you careen down a foreign highway in the opposite direction.

As I grow older, things start to pass with flying colors. People get married. People die. I start to say that really annoying thing that old people hate: "I remember back in the day..." People succeed. They fall. I've seen people get so occupied with their own agendas that they forget about the ones around them. This disconnect often leads to hate and misunderstanding - and hate doesn't feel very good - on either side. But hopefully, in the end, you start to realize and appreciate life for what it really is; a set of traditions between people.

I will admit I'm in quite the hypocritical stance, as I am still thousands of miles away this Thanksgiving from anyone I hold dear, I'm still hopeful that someday I'll have the opportunity to create and sustain this sort of tradition on my own. Maybe after fifteen or twenty years of holding this tradition, I'll have my own kids move out and hopefully start their own families, with their own traditions. Ones that include coming home at the end of each November to see the faces of interact with the people we call family, enjoying a delicious meal together one more time.

Of course this sort of spiel doesn't work very well without good music, so I've selected a few of my favorites from the last decade or so below:

Modest Mouse - 3rd Planet (MP3)
The Flaming Lips - Fight Test (MP3)
My Morning Jacket - Burmuda Highway (MP3)