Thanksgiving, 1994.
My grandfather and I, just a few months before, had driven to Missouri to get my mom, and 3 youngest brothers and help them move back to Virginia, to live with us. My mom had finally gotten out of a very abusive relationship, and I desperately wanted my little brothers closer to me. I had spend a lot of my adolescent years truly scared for them.
Anyway. Thanksgiving.
I do not remember a ton about the day, but I remember what happened when it was dessert time. My grandmother was bitchy to all of us, except uncle Ron 100% of the time, every day. After dinner was cleared, it was time for pie. Grandma said something like " I made 2. Pumpkin and Mincemeat"
Michael was 6 years old "I want pumpkin!"
Grandma "Well GOOD! I didn't want you to have any of the mincemeat ANYWAY"
silence. No one said anything.
grandma had put Joshua an Michael at a kids table next to the bigger table... although, truth be told, there was no need for that. There was plenty of room at the bigger table... that is, after all, where we had dinner every night. I digress.
Well, after very awkward silence and a couple minutes grandma barked again, "Why the heck are you CRYING!?!" to my little brother.
silence. again. except I just couldn't anymore.
"WELL IF YOU WERENT SO RUDE TO HIM, HE WOULD NOT BE CRYING!"
There was probably more silence as we got/ate our pie, but what I remember is after the pie. I took Michael into my room and put in his favorite tape and we sang... but one by one, everyone in the family ended up in my room to give Michael hugs, and tell me thank you.
That was an adventure I was terrified about while I was talking back to grandma, but I was also so proud for finally saying something.
When we talk about it now, Michael and I still remember that day.
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