Making Tracks

By Kat Bryant

I talk a good game, but I really wonder how I hold it together some days.

Yes, I knew my brothers were coming Friday. And yes, I knew we’d be cooking our big holiday dinner together on Saturday. Thanksgiving is whichever day the turkey hits the table, right?

Still, as I worked in a dark and otherwise empty office on Thanksgiving Day, I had to make a conscious effort not to obsess over the fact that … well, I was working in a dark and otherwise empty office on Thanksgiving Day.

It wasn’t just a feeling of loneliness per se. It was utter emptiness. This was my first Thanksgiving without Mom, and I was feeling it.

We’d been physically apart on plenty of holidays through the years; but we’d always, always talked for an hour or more on those days. The actual dates were very important to her; even if we were going to get together a couple of weeks or even days later to celebrate, we had to talk on The Day.

Dad would be on the line, too, but it was mostly me and Mom chatting about anything and everything in our lives. If the conversation started to drag, Mom would jump right in with detailed stories about people I barely knew — a long-ago neighbor, her dentist, her housekeeper. I’d smile and roll my eyes, but go right along with it because it meant talking with her for a bit longer.

Finally, we’d run out of inconsequential things to tell each other and reluctantly end the call. But we always knew we’d talk again soon.

… Until we didn’t.

I managed to get a fair amount of work done before throwing in the towel around 4:30. I didn’t really want to go home just yet, but had no idea what to do about it. All I knew was, I craved human contact.

As I drove toward Hoquiam, I saw the Duffy’s billboard and recalled reading that they would be open for Thanksgiving. In that moment, I decided to treat myself to a steak dinner.

When I walked in and quietly asked for a table for one, I very much appreciated the hostess not giving me the “oh, you poor dear” look. (It’s so demoralizing when that happens. Do people have any idea how hard it can be for some of us to work up the courage to do things like this alone?)

I sat down, ordered dinner and soaked in the environment. In the room behind me was a large family, three generations’ worth, enjoying a traditional turkey dinner. The room overflowed with animated conversations, laughter and happy baby sounds. And in a neighboring booth were a couple about my age with his mother. The love among them was clear, and ol’ Mom still had a wicked sense of humor. Reminded me of someone I knew.

In the hour I was there, I didn’t interact directly with anyone except the cheerful servers; but I enjoyed a delicious strip steak and pie in a brightly lit place surrounded by happy people of all ages.

It’s exactly what I needed, and I’m truly thankful they were open.

Kat Bryant is lifestyle editor of The Daily World. She had a lovely turkey dinner at home with her brothers on Saturday and is still enjoying the leftovers. Reach her at kbryant@thedailyworld.com or on Facebook at Kat Bryant-DailyWorld.