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“Keep talking,” Maddie eggs on while I elbow her. “What? You know that you want to hear it too.”
“We need to tell you girls all of this.” Dad replies.
“Why?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Because we are now in a program that is trying to help us get out of this mindset.”
“You mean the brainwashing?” Maddie asks.
“That’s one term, yes.” Dad nods. “You see, we are now in therapy for both our marriage and our beliefs. We have seen that our beliefs have impacted both our relationship together and our relationship with our children. We are sorry about that.”
“What about you, mom? Are you sorry that you never spoke up, even though it was clear that you did not agree with him? That you watched the both of us struggle to have our own lives under your roof? Are you sorry that your choice to stay quiet, despite knowing that it was wrong, ultimately ended up with both of your children defecting from your home?” I ask.
“We understand that you have a lot of anger towards us,” dad begins, but I hold up my hand.
“No, I want to hear from mom. She too has a voice. A voice that you’ve silenced.” I say with an even tone.
“I didn’t speak up, because that was not how it worked. There is an understanding that wives follow the direction of their husbands. He was the decision maker, and what your father would decide, is ultimately the law.”
“But is it? Did you two ever discuss any of the situations?” Maddie asks.
“No, no, we didn’t dear. But that is something that we’re working on in our therapy sessions. I’m learning to be vocal in our marriage.” Mom replies.
After an hour of discussion, our parents laid everything out on the table. Maddie and I listened without interrupting them. They are seeking a change in their lives, and that includes not relying as heavily on the religious and conservative aspects in their every day. I can see the remorse and I can hear it as well when they speak.
What do I do in this situation?
My mind is torn, but ultimately, I decide to be forgiving. After all, this is Thanksgiving and maybe the change that they’re working on will stick.
I look over at Maddie and smile.
Our parents are sitting across from us, with hope in their gazes.
“To some people, Thanksgiving means different things. I have learned over the past few years that Thanksgiving is a time that you share with loved ones. Sure, celebrating and giving thanks only one day a year seems dumb, because that should be every day. But it’s a period that I want to give sincere thanks, gratitude, and to reconnect with those you do not see regularly. While I may not be as you both are in the conservative aspect, I do give thanks for the many blessings that I’ve received in my life. Despite our tumultuous relationship, I’ve always given thanks to the both of you as you gave me life, you gave me a sister, and even though you did not agree with them, you gave me opportunity. This would be out first Thanksgiving in our new home. We celebrate with family and our chosen family. I would be honored if we could work towards a better tomorrow, and you would join us tonight.”
My mother's chin starts to tremble as her eyes fill with tears that were begging to shed. She nods her head excitedly.
“I think that we would love that,” she replies.
That’s a first. Our father was always the one to speak for the both of them.
I stand up, offer my hand to Maddie who stood silently beside me. I look over at her. “Is that okay with you, Mads? This is your home too.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” She squeezes my hand.
“Thank you,” dad says, standing. “I cannot express my gratefulness for your welcoming, both of you welcoming us into your home.”
“Dad, we simply held a different way at looking at our futures. A disagreement in how we wanted to live. We didn’t ever not love the both of you.” Maddie explains.
“And for that, let’s give thanks today.”
“To reconnecting.” I say. “Maddie, we need to set two more table settings on the table.”
Once we return to the living room, Dean is standing with his father in the room's corner close to the television. They’re discussing something about the football game on.
“Hey everyone,” I say as we walk back into the main part of the house. “I want to introduce our parents to you. Mom and Dad, this is Dean’s parents and you know Denise.”
Dean smiles and steps forward.
