make an individual path by any means.
―Joy Harjo
The only Thanksgiving dinner I ever knew was a Norman Rockwell painting.
In the foster homes where I was billeted no one ever gave thanks but grumbled the stipend they got from the government for housing me was never enough.
Having a thankful heart was a myth like all American dreams Canadians adopted too, with minor changes, of course, but the fairy tale was the same.
And the dreams withered like the leaves into a cold hard winter where the solitude and desolation seemed endless.
We were sitting in the car outside the Chandler house and I was frozen...with fear.
"Well," Autumn smiled, "Aren't we going in?"
My heart was pounding and I was trembling and felt short of breath.
"Give me a moment," I managed to gasp.
The look on her face told me everything. She was horrified and I didn't blame her. I wanted to go in but couldn't make my legs move and my hands were numb and tingling.
She leaned over to me and lay her head on my shoulder.
"Take your time," she whispered, "we've all the time in the world. I know this must feel strange for you, but if you can't do it, that's okay too."
"I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself. I don't know how to act and I don't want to embarrass you.”
Her eyes flashed with fire. "Listen to me, Jake, you could never embarrass me. I love you and want to spend my life with you. If you can't do this, I understand. But know this—everyone in that house is for you, not against you and I’ll be by your side."
"Will I have to pray or make a speech?"
She laughed, "You just have to bring your appetite and enjoy my mother's cooking. That will make her heart glad. She told me she wanted to make a real homemade meal for you. Just eat and drink and she'll be happy. My Dad is already in your corner and Breton treats you like a son. And I think you know how I feel.”
Her words calmed me. I took a deep breath and felt the panic pass.
"Okay," I sighed, "let's do this."
"Just be yourself, Jake, they're already on your side."
I nodded and got out and went round the SUV and opened her door.
At that moment a smiling woman opened the house door and called out, "C'mon in you two, just made a pot of coffee!"
She was a mature version of Autumn, graceful and beautiful and her smile was disarming.
"Be right in, Mom," Autumn called and turned to me and whispered, "See? She's not so terrifying.”
She was far from terrifying—I could feel the warmth radiating from her. She looked like the all-American mom and if that was a myth, I was buying it.
My panic attack subsided and I felt my whole body relax.
I was grateful for something—Life reached out and took me off the shelf, blew away the dust and gave me a reason for living.
It was simple and real. It was exactly what I needed.
A friendly hand reached out and welcomed me and a smiling face invited me in.