The Thanksgiving I Was Forgotten
Thanksgiving had always been one of Sarah’s favorite holidays. It wasn’t just about the food, although that was a significant part of it, but about the tradition. Every year, her mother, Eleanor, would host the family dinner, and despite the chaos that sometimes came with hosting, there was always a warm feeling that filled the house: the smells, the laughter, and the clinking of silverware. It was something that made Sarah feel safe, loved, and connected. But this year, everything felt different.
Sarah didn’t even realize how much she was looking forward to this Thanksgiving until the morning of. She had been swamped with work for the past few weeks, and the idea of finally being with family seemed like the perfect escape from the stress. The thought of sitting around the table, joking with her siblings, and indulging in too much food was enough to lift her spirits.
As she got ready that morning, Sarah texted her mom, asking what time she should come by. She figured she’d arrive around 4:00 p.m., giving herself some time to get a few things done before heading over. She didn’t want to be too early, but she didn’t want to miss anything either. Eleanor’s reply came shortly after: “Four is great! See you then.” Sarah thought nothing of it. She was excited, maybe a bit too excited. She rushed through her errands, and by the time she was finished, she checked the clock: 3:45 p.m. Perfect timing.
Sarah made her way to her parents’ house, replaying the previous year’s holidays in her head. The memories were comforting, and she couldn’t help but smile as she drove. Yet, she couldn’t shake off this small, nagging feeling that something was off, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe she was just overthinking things, or maybe it was the stress from work still hanging over her. Regardless, she tried to push it aside. This was supposed to be a fun day.
When Sarah pulled up to the house, the familiar scent of turkey and mashed potatoes wafted through the air. It was almost like a greeting, welcoming her back home. But then, as she stepped out of the car, something felt strange. There were no cars parked in front of the house. That was odd. Her family always arrived early to help get the food ready, and there was always a bustle of activity in the driveway. Sarah stood there for a second, confused, and then walked toward the front door, thinking maybe she was just the first one to arrive.
She rang the doorbell. No answer. She knocked a few times, a little louder this time. Still no answer. At this point, her heart was starting to race, and her stomach twisted in a knot. Where was everyone? Sarah pulled out her phone to send a quick text, but before she could type anything, it buzzed. It was a message from her mom: “We thought you’d be late.”
Sarah’s mind went blank for a moment. She reread the message twice, trying to make sense of it. What did she mean by that? Before she could figure it out, another message came through, this time from her sister, Emily: “We couldn’t keep waiting.”
Sarah’s stomach dropped. It didn’t make sense. They wouldn’t just start without her, would they? Thanksgiving wasn’t just about the meal; it was about the family being together. They always waited for everyone to arrive, no matter what.
Feeling confused, Sarah opened the door. It creaked slightly, as if it had been opened already. She stepped inside, expecting to hear the chatter of her family, but the house was eerily silent. There on the table was a half-empty turkey, half of the side dishes, and a few scattered plates. It was clear they had already eaten.
Sarah stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the remnants of what should have been their meal. The thought that she had been left out, that her family had moved on without her, hit her like a ton of bricks. Why didn’t they wait for her? Why didn’t they even call to see if she was running late or if she was okay? She felt a deep, bitter sting, but she refused to let it show. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned on her heel and left the house without saying a word.
She walked back to her car, the weight of it all beginning to settle in. She didn’t know what was worse: the fact that they didn’t wait for her, or the fact that she had to find out through a text. She got into her car, started the engine, and for a few moments, she just sat there in silence. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. She wanted to cry, but the anger wouldn’t let her. She sent one last message to her mom: “I guess I’ll just find something else to do.”
Sarah drove away, not knowing where she was going, just needing to get away from the house, from them, from everything. But as she left, she couldn’t shake the question that lingered in her mind: Why didn’t they wait?
Sarah didn’t know what to do with herself after that. She just kept driving. There were plenty of places she could have gone, but she didn’t feel like being around people. She didn’t want to explain what had just happened, and she ended up at a park, parking near a quiet bench. It was chilly outside, but she needed the space to think, to breathe. Thanksgiving was supposed to be a time of togetherness, of warmth and family, but what had just happened felt like a slap in the face.
She couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely disregarded. It wasn’t just the food she’d missed; it was the thought that her family had no issue going on without her. She sat there for a while, staring blankly ahead. A couple of people walked by, but she couldn’t focus on anything else.
Her phone buzzed again. This time it was a call from her mom. Sarah didn’t pick up. Part of her wanted to hear her explanation. She wanted to know why they’d started without her, why they hadn’t at least waited to check if she was on her way. But another part of her was too angry to listen. Her thoughts were too jumbled. She didn’t trust herself to talk about it without breaking down or saying something she’d regret.
The phone buzzed again, a message from her sister this time: “Mom’s really upset. Please come back.”
Sarah stared at the message for a moment. Upset? After what happened, she was upset? Her hands gripped the phone so tightly she thought it might crack. She couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of frustration. She had every right to be upset. It felt like her entire family had just moved on without her, just like that. She thought about how many times they had sat together around that table, laughing and telling stories, making memories, and now all of that felt empty.
Sarah quickly typed out a reply, but before she hit send, she stopped. She didn’t know if she was ready to talk to them, if she even wanted to. Instead, she just hit block on both their numbers. She didn’t want to hear anything from them, not yet. It felt like the only way she could take back some control.
She sat in that park for a while longer, watching as the sun dipped behind the horizon, the sky turning into hues of orange and purple. It was hard to shake the thoughts in her head. She kept replaying the scene in her mind: the empty table, the half-eaten food, the texts, and the unanswered door. Eventually, the cold started to seep in, and she decided it was time to head home.
But as she started driving, she couldn’t help but wonder what happens now. Would they try to contact her again? Would they even care? Or had she just become an afterthought to them?
When Sarah finally got home, she threw her keys on the counter and collapsed onto the couch. Her phone buzzed again. This time it was a voicemail from Eleanor. It was short and shaky, her voice filled with an apology. “Please, can we talk? We didn’t mean to hurt you. We just didn’t think you’d be coming. Please call me when you can.”
Sarah didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t know if she was ready to forgive them, but there was a part of her that wanted to hear them out, a part of her that couldn’t completely walk away. She stared at the message for what felt like hours, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she lay down, the coldness from earlier wrapping around her like a blanket. She couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever be the same again.
The next few days were strange. The holiday passed without any more attempts from her family to reach out, at least not in a way that felt genuine. The messages had stopped coming, and the silence between them grew louder with each passing hour. She’d find herself staring at her phone, waiting for a call, but nothing came, and she began to wonder if they were just waiting for her to make the next move, to reach out first. But honestly, she wasn’t sure if she could. The whole situation had shaken her more than she cared to admit, and a part of her wasn’t ready to face them, let alone let them back into her life like nothing had happened.
But then, exactly three days after Thanksgiving, Sarah received a message from her mom: “Can we meet? I need to talk to you.” There was no apology, no acknowledgement of the hurt, just a cold, brief request to meet. She stared at the message for what felt like forever, a thousand thoughts rushed through her mind. Was she finally going to explain herself? Was this just some form of damage control? She had no idea, but she knew one thing: she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face them yet.
Sarah couldn’t help but think about all the years she’d put into the family dynamic, years of showing up, always doing her best to be there, and yet they hadn’t done the same for her. That hurt more than she’d like to admit. But despite all her doubts, a small part of her wanted closure. She had to know if they truly understood what they’d done, if they even cared at all.
So, she agreed to meet. They set up a time to meet at a small cafe in town. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but her heart was already racing as she drove there. The thought of sitting face to face with Eleanor again was nerve-wracking, and yet she couldn’t help but feel a sliver of hope. Maybe things could go back to normal. Maybe this would be the moment they could fix everything.
When Sarah arrived, she saw her mom sitting by the window, her hands folded in front of her on the table. Her expression was hard to read, nervous maybe. She couldn’t tell. Eleanor hadn’t looked this vulnerable in years. Sarah walked over and sat down across from her. They both stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Sarah didn’t know what to say. The tension in the air was thick, and she found herself gripping the edges of her seat.
Finally, Eleanor broke the silence. “I know you’re upset,” she said quietly, her voice shaky. “I’m sorry. I should have waited for you, but it wasn’t what you think. We were worried you wouldn’t come, and the food was getting cold.”
Sarah didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to hear her reasoning. It felt like an excuse, a way to deflect from the fact that they had made the decision to go ahead without her. She couldn’t shake the thought that if they really cared, they would have waited. If they really cared, they would have at least tried to call.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Eleanor continued, her voice now a little more pleading. “We just assumed you’d be too busy or that something had come up, but I never meant for it to go like this.”
Sarah looked at her, trying to read her face, but instead of feeling relief, she felt a growing sense of frustration. It didn’t feel like an apology; it felt more like an explanation wrapped in guilt. She didn’t want her pity. She wanted to know why she hadn’t thought to check on her or make sure she was coming. It wasn’t just the meal that hurt; it was the fact that she had been so easily disregarded.
The silence stretched on again, and just as Sarah was about to speak, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Emily. She opened it, expecting another apology or some kind of emotional message, but instead she read: “Mom says you’re here. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. We just want to move on.”
Sarah’s stomach churned. Move on? Move on from what? Was this all just something that needed to be brushed aside, forgotten? Could they really think that she could just let it go as if nothing had happened? She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. And then she looked up at Eleanor, who was still waiting for her to say something, anything. She looked like she was holding her breath.
“I don’t know what to say,” Sarah finally whispered. “I thought we meant more to each other than this.”
Eleanor’s face fell, and she reached across the table to touch her hand. “We do, I swear we do, but we didn’t know what to do…”
But Sarah wasn’t sure she believed her. She wasn’t sure if she could trust anything she said anymore. The feeling of abandonment, of being so easily forgotten, hung between them like an invisible barrier. As Eleanor’s hand rested on hers, Sarah could feel the tension in her touch. It was as if she was pleading for her to understand, to forgive her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not yet. There were so many things unsaid, so many emotions that had been buried beneath the surface for so long, and now they were all coming to light, flooding her like a tidal wave she couldn’t control.
Just as Sarah was about to speak, to finally tell her how hurt she was, the door to the cafe opened, and in walked Emily. She looked around, saw Sarah sitting at the table with her mom, and made a beeline for them, her face hard and unreadable. She sat down without saying a word, and for a moment the three of them just stared at each other in silence. It wasn’t the reunion she’d imagined. It wasn’t warm or heartfelt. It was cold, and she couldn’t help but feel like a stranger in her own family.
Finally, Emily broke the silence. “I don’t know why this is such a big deal,” she said, her voice flat. “We all know you’d be late. It wasn’t anything personal.”
Sarah blinked, taken aback. Was she really trying to downplay everything? Did she think she could just brush it off like she had? She felt a fire ignite in her, the anger she had been holding in for days finally surfacing. “It wasn’t about being late,” Sarah said, her voice shaking. “It’s about how you all just went ahead without me. You didn’t even think to wait, to check if I was on my way. You just moved on. I was ignored, and that’s what hurt the most.”
Emily’s expression faltered just for a second before she crossed her arms and looked away. “We didn’t think it was that serious. It’s just dinner, after all.”
Just dinner? Sarah felt the blood rush to her face. How could she say that? How could any of them think that? To her, it wasn’t just dinner. It was a symbol of how little she mattered to them.
Sarah stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “No, this isn’t just dinner, and it’s not something I can just forget.” Eleanor looked up at her, her face a mix of confusion and regret. “Please, can we just—”
But Sarah cut her off. “No, Mom. You had the chance to make it right, and you didn’t. I’m tired of being an afterthought in this family. You all think that because I’m the one who’s always late, or the one who’s busy, that I don’t deserve to be treated like a priority, like I matter, but that’s not true!”
Sarah could feel the heat in her chest as the words tumbled out. She had never been this open, this raw with them before, and honestly it felt good to finally let it all out, to speak her truth, even if it wasn’t easy.
For a moment, everything was silent. Emily avoided eye contact, and Eleanor sat frozen, her face pale. Sarah didn’t know what she was expecting, an apology maybe, but nothing came. She could feel her chest tightening. The words she had spoken hung in the air like an accusation, and yet they just sat there, unable to meet her gaze. It was as if they couldn’t even comprehend the weight of what had just happened.
Then, without warning, Emily’s voice sliced through the tension. “You’re really making this about yourself, aren’t you?”
Sarah stared at her in disbelief. Was she really going to say that? After everything that had happened, after all the hurt she had poured out? “I—what?” Sarah stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and confusion. “You think I’m making this about me? You walked out on me, on our family, and now you’re blaming me?”
She looked at Sarah, her expression cold, almost calculating. “I just don’t get why you’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just dinner, you know? We had to go on with our lives. You were probably busy anyway.”
Her words hit Sarah like a slap. Just dinner? Was that really all it was to her? She thought she had been clear. This wasn’t just about dinner; this was about feeling invisible, forgotten. It was about years of being treated as an afterthought, and always being expected to be the one who compromised.
Sarah could feel the blood rushing to her head, her fists clenched under the table. “Are you seriously saying that to me right now?” she hissed. “That I should just get over it because you couldn’t be bothered to wait for your own family?”
Eleanor shifted in her seat, looking like she was about to speak, but the words didn’t come. The silence stretched on again, and it felt like the weight of the entire conversation had fallen on Sarah alone.
Just as she was about to say something else, something sharp, something that would finally make them understand, the door of the cafe opened again, and in walked her uncle, Michael. His presence was like an interruption, a disturbance in the already tense atmosphere. He walked over to their table, giving Sarah a quick, awkward nod before turning to Eleanor and Emily. “Everything okay here?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of concern.
It wasn’t just his question that struck Sarah; it was the timing. How many times had her family relied on others to step in when things got uncomfortable, when the truth was hard to face? How many times had they avoided dealing with the real issues?
“I’m fine,” Sarah said, her voice a little more bitter than she intended. “Everything’s just perfect.”
She could see Eleanor’s face falter at her words. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then shut it again, seemingly unsure of how to respond.
Instead of waiting for her family to fix this, Sarah stood up, pushing her chair back with a sharp scrape. “I’ve had enough,” she said. “I’ve been trying to make this work for years, and you keep brushing me aside like it’s nothing, but I’m done.”
For a moment, it seemed like no one knew how to react. Michael looked from her to Eleanor, clearly unsure what was going on, and Emily’s eyes narrowed. She was about to say something, but Sarah didn’t give her the chance.
“You don’t get to decide what’s important to me anymore,” Sarah continued, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’m not going to be the one who keeps trying when you all clearly don’t care enough to meet me halfway. So I’m done. I’ll let you figure this out without me.”
And with that, Sarah turned and walked out. The cool air hit her as she stepped outside, but it was nothing compared to the chill that had settled deep inside her. She couldn’t bring herself to look back. Part of her felt relieved, like she had finally freed herself from the emotional weight she’d been carrying for years. But another part of her felt empty, hollow.
Was this really the end? Would her family just continue like nothing had happened, or would they finally come to realize how much they had hurt her?
The days that followed were excruciating. Every time she checked her phone, she hoped for something, a message, a call, anything, but nothing came. They had already moved on, just like they always did. She was the one left in the dust, wondering if this time it would finally be different.
And then, after a week of nothing, Sarah received a message from Emily. It was simple, sure; “I don’t think you understand what you’ve done.” The words stung, but she didn’t respond. She just stared at her phone, the anger bubbling up once again. How could she think she didn’t understand? She was the one who didn’t get it. She was the one who had chosen her convenience over family.
But something inside Sarah knew that the next message, the next conversation, would be the breaking point. She stared at the screen, green; her finger hovering over the keyboard, debating whether or not she should reply. What was the point? What could she say that would make her understand?
The more Sarah thought about it, the more she realized something. She didn’t know them anymore. There had been some explanations, then the silence between them had become unbearable, but Sarah knew deep down that it wasn’t just her family ignoring her; it was her ignoring the fact that she had been trying so hard to fit into a picture that was never meant for her. They had their own lives, their own way of doing things, and somewhere along the way she had stopped being a part of it.
Sarah tossed her phone on the couch and paced around her apartment, trying to shake the feeling that had been haunting her since that Thanksgiving, but no matter how much she tried to move on, the emotional scars from that day wouldn’t fade. She couldn’t forget how her family had acted like she didn’t matter, how they had so easily dismissed her and expected her to just accept it.
The days stretched on in a painful silence. Sarah kept her distance, focusing on her work, keeping to herself. She went to a few friends’ gatherings, laughed, and tried to enjoy herself, but nothing filled the emptiness. Every time she thought about her family, her heart ached in a way she didn’t know how to describe.
Then one day, out of nowhere, Sarah received a phone call from Eleanor. She almost didn’t pick up, still holding on to the bitterness that had been festering, but she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different.
“Hello?” Sarah said, her voice cautious.
“Hey,” Eleanor’s voice was soft, almost fragile. “Can we talk?”
Sarah didn’t know what to expect. Part of her wanted to say no, to hang up and protect herself from more pain, but another part of her, the part that missed them, the part that still cared, wanted to hear her out. “Yeah, we can talk,” Sarah said, sitting down on the couch. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she could hear Eleanor taking a deep breath on the other end.
“I—I don’t know how to start,” Eleanor said quietly, “but I’ve been thinking a lot about everything, about what happened on Thanksgiving, and I know I messed up. I know we messed up. We’ve been wrong about so many things. We pushed you away, and I’m so sorry.”
Her words hit Sarah harder than she expected. She wasn’t sure how to respond. After so much time, after everything she had gone through, she didn’t know if she could just forgive her like that. “Mom, I—” she struggled to find the words, but Eleanor cut her off, her voice full of emotion.
“I’m not asking you to forgive us right now,” she said. “I just—I wanted you to know that we realize what we’ve done, and we want to make it right. We’re willing to do whatever it takes, but only if you want to.”
There it was, the apology she had been waiting for, the recognition of how badly they had hurt her, but it still felt like something was missing. It wasn’t just about an apology; it was about showing her that they could change, that they could truly care.
“I’m not sure if I can just forgive and forget,” Sarah replied, her voice steady, “but maybe we can figure it out. I don’t want to be part of a family where I’m treated like an afterthought.”
“Of course,” Eleanor said, and Sarah could hear the sincerity in her voice. “We’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you, one step at a time.”
It wasn’t the perfect ending. It wasn’t some dramatic reunion with hugs and happy tears, but it was a start. It was a chance for all of them to heal, to rebuild what had been broken, and as Sarah hung up the phone, she knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t over. It wasn’t the happily ever after moment she dreamed of, but it was real. It was the beginning of something new, something that had the potential to change everything.
But deep down, a part of Sarah still wasn’t sure. Was this just another cycle of empty promises? Could they really change after all these years of letting her down, or was she just setting herself up for more disappointment?
Sarah stood there in her living room, staring at the phone, wondering what her next step should be. Should she give them another chance, open herself up to the possibility of forgiveness, or was it time to walk away completely, to break free from the family that had hurt her so much? This wasn’t an easy decision. Her emotions were still raw, and she wasn’t sure if she could trust them again so soon, but she also knew that she was the one who had to make this choice.
So, I’m turning to you now. What would you do in my situation? Would you give them a second chance and try to rebuild what’s been broken, or would you walk away, put up those walls once and for all, and move on with your life without looking back? Drop your thoughts in the comments. I’d love to hear what you think: should Sarah give them a chance to make it right, or move on for good? The choice isn’t easy, but maybe, just maybe, your advice will help.
