Happy Thanksgiving you filthy animals.

I don't usually show my vulnerable side (because heauxs be mistaking my weakness for kindness) but for some reason as I get older, my heart's been acting like it cares and whilst I do not agree, the heart wants what the heart wants and this heart apparently wants to show some love to the people.


So, firstly, Happy Thanksgiving you filthy animals!

Two years ago, for the first time, I uttered the words "Happy Thanksgiving" with sincerity and it shook me. You have to understand, when I moved here on January 1, 2010, I was hell-bent on returning to my home in my Trinidad and Tobago. Holidays like Thanksgiving, Labor Day and Memorial Day meant nothing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I would indulge in the festivities but it was just another day. Added to which, I also hated Christmas. Geez, don't stop reading here, allow me to explain. Stay patient ok? Ok. Whew...It gets really good (or maybe not).


Twenty five years ago, on December 27, I lost my mum. I needed her! My son was 18mths old and I knew nothing about being a mother (who am I kidding, I still have no idea what I'm doing). I was so angry at God for taking away my beautiful, witty, plain-spoken, selfless mother. Christmas was just a reminder of all the pain and heartache but just to keep hope alive for my son I forced myself into the whole leave-a-cookie-and-milk-out-for-Santa shenanigans'.


So with my Christmas hating self, when I migrated, I lived through each day counting down the days to return back to my sweet island paradise. Their holidays were not MY holidays, I am a Republic Day, Shouter-Baptist Holiday, Emancipation Day type of gal!


Well, in short, I haven't returned, yet. The years went by and four years into living here I lost the absolute love of my life. My DAD. I'll be honest, I still cannot get through talking/writing about him without bawling my eyes out. So if this blog reads blurry, it's not you, it's me.


November 2019, as I was leaving Fresh Market (I didn't need to specify but I just really wanted you guys to know I eat well. Ha!), someone said 'Happy Thanksgiving' and without skipping a beat, I replied 'Same to you'. For the first time in almost twenty five years, I felt a sincerity in my heart that I hadn't experienced for a very long time. I said it, I meant it and it felt good!


I exited 'the market', sat in silence in my car and offered up prayers to God. I thanked him for healing my heart and for never giving up on me. I thanked him for blessing me with a tribe of people who I know I can call on no matter what. My Tribe called Bess! I asked for his continued love and grace. I prayed, I sang praises and I bawled my eyes out. As I started my engine, I asked God to guide my drive and direct my road rage. What? A lil road rage, once properly expressed, is modern art in motion. The drive home was calm.


So, if you are not feeling thankful for one reason or another, don't be too hard on yourself. You don't want the (dry) turkey (that may choke you out😜)? Don't have the turkey, have whatever feels good (except liver and gizzard, that's never good)!


You prefer spend some alone time? Then do just that! Play your favourite music, watch a fun show (Schitts Creek is a fun one) or read a great book! Life is constant and the feelings come and go, just like the seasons, it's what makes each moment


so memorable. Bawl your eyes out if you may.


Relax your shoulders, take a deep breath and exhale.


Happy Thanksgiving! I am thankful for each of you.




Photography by @morgansophiaphotography





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