There are also families who hardly have an appetite because they are mourning the loss of a loved one.
This year, my family will be in the latter group.
On Thursday, I received a call from my aunt that my cousin Justin had lost his battle with addiction. He was twenty-seven years old.
27.
This was a person who I grew up with. Our mothers, both single parents, spent a lot of time together, so consequently, so did Justin and I. We went sledding together during snow-filled Buffalo winters. We poked at the potato bugs that hid under pieces of brick at our grandparent's old condo. We picked lilacs together to give to my aunt.
When we were playing with pogs as children, I never thought that Justin would develop a heroin addiction. While making forts out of sheets during sleepovers, I never imagined that there would come a day that my cousin, who was more like a big brother to me, wouldn't be around.
Loving an addict isn't easy. It means constant optimism that they can turn it around, even though they may relapse multiple times. It means always knowing that one day they will do too much, take it too far, never come back, but hoping that day never comes. It's constant worry. It's emergency visits to ICU. It's reminding them how impossible it would be to live in a world without them, and then having to anyway, because your love wasn't enough to save them from themselves.
It means sympathy for you and your family, but not always for the person who has passed away. It means trying to convince people that didn't really know your loved one that they were a good person.
It's feeling as though you didn't do enough. It's dealing with grief and anger simultaneously.
This Thanksgiving, I won't be able to tell somebody that I cared about that I love them. I can't pick up the phone and chat about how good our dinners were, or what is new in our lives. But many of you can.
If you are fortunate enough to be able to spend the holidays with those you care most about, do it. Hug your loved ones tight. Tell them how much you care about them. And remember how lucky you are for all that you have. That's what Thanksgiving is all about, after all.
A snapchat from JT several months ago: Him making fun at the disastrous state of my nails. I'll miss things like this.