It’s Thanksgiving Day and my house is bursting at the seams – and this isn’t where we’re having dinner. Even with runny noses and upset tummies – and standing in the cold waiting for one of my children to cross the finish line of the Turkey Trot – there is love and warmth everywhere.
That’s not true. Not everywhere. Caren called my office this week to refill her blood pressure medication, and she was in a foul mood. “My family doesn’t want me around for the holidays. This season is really hard for me.” Later that same afternoon, Michael, an anxious man in his early thirties, confided in me that he was trying hard to stabilize a housing situation that was beyond his means, “but it’s really tough – I have no one to lean on and I’m doing this all myself.” They are not feeling the love.