As an adult, holidays have evolved into seasonal events I tolerate on behalf of others, my obligatory concession to family. Long jaded by consumerism, I try putting up a brave front so my family and the Mister’s, can have “their” celebration the way they desire it. Ironically, after all the hoop jumping, they are seldom happy with the results.

What I have difficulty justifying, are all the stress-inducing obligations executed under the guise of celebration. Many, I’m obligated to celebrate with, have a talent for placing more emphasis on the ritual than the meaning. Why exalt stress and place it on a pedestal with a ten page credit card statement and a bottle of xanax? Because we’ve always done it that way. We obsess over cumbersome traditions, and abandon the most rewarding aspect of celebration, appreciation.

On the surface, I might seem ungrateful. I’m not. I appreciate everyone who has ever hosted a gathering and included me at their table. What I don’t enjoy are loud crowds, poor planning, having to carry on when the self-appointed hostess losses her shit, watching the Host’s husband drink pot liquor from the serving dish with the serving spoon, my father-in-law snatching turkey off my plate and drinking from my glass, the hosting couple exchanging loud insults at the dinner table, one person being burdened with all the preparations because they won’t allow others to help, and spending four hours commuting between two locations with equally unpleasant circumstances, and tiptoeing around pre-approved topics of conversation (weather, football, fishing, boy scouts).

Prior to this year, the most enjoyable Thanksgiving I had celebrated as an adult doesn’t qualify as much of a Thanksgiving at all. Mister Hombre had to work, and invited me to travel with him. We walked along Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco and watched the sea lions sunbathe. We ate non-traditional fare and explored the hills and squares of one of my favorite cities. That trip raised the bar for holidays. After that, I hoped he would have to work Thanksgiving regularly (my unpleasant selfishness makes itself known).

The following year, he was home, and we took his parents out for Thanksgiving. It went as expected. Lots of complaints about the food (Justified, I’m afraid. The turkey was truly awful.) Complaints about the lack of family present, complaints about health, complaints, complaints, complaints…

I didn’t discuss Thanksgiving with the Mister this year. I hoped he would be working, but it didn’t seem right to ask. I thought he still enjoyed the holidays. We didn’t discuss Thanksgiving until two weeks ago. I knew I could handle the truth, but I didn’t want to marinate in it. I didn’t want to determine the outcome before the event arrived, as I am prone. The Mister gave me his schedule, and he would be working six days across Thanksgiving. I felt guilty and excited. Guilty he would be away from his family and it was what I wanted, and excited because I could travel with him.

Last week, I asked if he tried to get Thanksgiving off. His responded that he ignored the holiday when he was bidding for his schedule. I feel bad for him, because until now, he has enjoyed the holidays, warts and all. I think the pressure of being everything to everyone is weighing him down. Parents, kids. job, and wife pulling in different directions. Especially parents. I long for him to enjoy the holidays, the way he did when our relationship was new, even if I don’t feel the same, it isn’t always about me. Some of us learn sooner than others, you never really can go home again.

This year, we spent Thanksgiving in Munich, with a table full of other Americans away from their families. We ate traditional German food, and there was no shortage of laughter. Thankful me. There are things I still enjoy about the holidays, like watching kids consumed by excitement, hearing my grandmother say, “shit”, spending casual time with friends, and saying thank you, for being you. But, seriously why should I wait for the holidays to enjoy those things, I should appreciate what I have daily, wherever I happen to be.