Thanksgiving in the Country is Louder and More Chaotic Than Life in the City

I traveled Four hundred and twenty seven miles southwest of St. Louis for Thanksgiving hoping to trade the traffic, chaos and faster pace of the city for the quieter, slower pace of rural Oklahoma where life is lived simpler. I would go there, destress and rest in the quiet of the country for four days. Or so I thought.

One thousand hugs, a million “I love yous”, complete chaos, conversations reaching one hundred and forty decibels, and strategically managing every minute of the day so as to include as many people as possible in as many activities as a day will permit, that was my Thanksgiving weekend. And I loved every stressful minute of those four days. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. If fact, in all of my forty-six years, I have not missed a single Thanksgiving with my family.

I come from a large and close-knit family. We are loud, spirited and will freely give our opinion whether asked for or not. Outsiders must have thick skin to survive. We play spades for hours, sit together in the living room or outside on the porch and tell the same stories we have told countless times before and they still make us all laugh regardless of how many times we have already heard them.

My dad tells us of life’s struggles from the past and sprinkles his wisdom on us. My mother cooks delicious meals and insists on doing as much for me as I will let her since I live away from home. She loves taking care of her family; I love letting her. It reminds me of when I was a child.

No matter how much time I have with my crazy, chaotic family, it never feels like it is enough. There are so many of us that getting the chance to have a lengthy, one-on-one conversation is rather difficult. We try, but inevitable someone will start another conversation in the middle of yours. And the rabbit chase begins.

Instead of deep conversations, we fill the hours with card games, silliness, and lots of laughter night after night. But, I always long for real, intimate conversations, the kind that let’s you know what life is like for each of them. So, I do my best to steal a few minutes with as many of them as is possible.

There is not much there in that small town in Oklahoma, for it is mostly rural with soybean farms scattered about. But, it is home.

As I drove away, I felt a knot form in my throat as a few tears fell. I missed them already. Mile after mile I wished I could do it again, but as I got closer to St. Louis, I found myself feeling happy to be home in the city once more. And much to my surprise, my apartment in the city was more peaceful and quieter than my time in the country.

And I realized my home is in two places, thus is my heart.