Today is one of the most dangerous driving days. Not because of drinking or texting or even tiredness. No, I suspect that on the day after Thanksgiving the greatest cause of distracted driving is family resentment.
As much as we love this holiday, when families gather for Thanksgiving, conflict is inevitable.
Yesterday, most of us were with the people who know how to push our buttons because they either installed them or have had years of practice pushing them. To parents and siblings we added in-laws, sibling spouses, stepchildren and, for some, their exes. Despite high amounts of tryptophan administered via light and dark meat, even the best of us surely hit sore spots in each other.
Along with the usual "issues" around the turkey table — sibling rivalry, adolescents with attitude and the aunts who don't speak to each other — we added the raw feelings of national politics and the economy. Even the food was a source of tension. The host either did or did not accommodate someone's special food needs; the gluten-free and the gluten-disbelievers were at each other even before grace was said.
Political tripwires run from stuffing to dessert; most of us shared our meal with people who mix not only their potatoes with their peas but their politics with their religion: Everything in the headlines — terrorism, health care and the economy — hit a hot button for someone. Even the formerly safe topic of the weather is now highly charged — is it global warming or God's will?
So today, all this gets debriefed in the car. The tension that began at the table spills into phone calls to relatives who were not there yesterday, or those who were and who are now being uninvited from the rest of the holiday season.
Part of our problem is denial. Once again we longed for the other Thanksgiving, the one we keep imagining that other families have, but which really only happens in women's magazines and made-for-TV movies.
"Thanksgiving's just not what it used to be," we think, but then again, it never was. We can't shake our romantic idea about the first one with the grateful Pilgrims and the wise Indians, but it's safe to say that most of us wouldn't have survived their dinner, either. The truth is that the Pilgrims, with their cute buckled shoes, weren't innocent refugees from persecution. They were another brand of religious zealots. We still bring some of their emotional leftovers — the Scriptures and strictures — to our own Thanksgiving tables.
So today, we have leftovers in our hearts as well as in our refrigerators. Yesterday we spoke the platitudes of gratitude but today we need to forgive people for the cornucopia of hurts, wounds and assaults on pride that may have been the real centerpiece of our family dinners. There are so many wounds — big and small — that we are telling and texting and leaving on therapists' voice mail today: Mothers who sighed over daughter's hair, the childless who offered parenting advice, the uncle who has plenty who gave financial advice to those who have none.
Our only deep relief will come from forgiveness, perhaps best defined as, "Giving up all hope for a better past." But forgiveness takes time so here's something to think about to save yourself pain and a high co-pay: "Resentment is like setting yourself on fire and waiting for other people to die of smoke inhalation."
Every spiritual tradition teaches forgiveness. Even Jesus, who had trouble at a dinner once, said, "Forgive them." But he spoke Aramaic and the word he used for forgive was shaw, meaning "to untie". Forgiveness is letting it go.
So get off the phone, stop mentally rehearsing what you will say to your brother's wife or your partner's parents and put on some music. Thanksgiving is just the warm up for the holidays to come. Be gentle with yourself and those you (mostly) still love. I declare this Family Forgiveness Day. Just let it go.
Diane Cameron is a Capital Region writer. DianeOCameron@gmail.com.