Solitude

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving weekend passed over a week ago. I had the opportunity to spend it with my best friend and his family in the country, where I haven't been in years.

The farm had changed, the pathway to the rocks we used to sit on were long gone. In return, it was covered in grass, almost up to my waist. There wasn't any cattle anymore, they were either sold or passed away.

The farm house on the inside was the same but yet different. The living area was gone, full of boxes and the familiar furniture I remember from childhood was buried underneath. The rest of the house was the same, cozy, full of memories and felt exactly like home.

The barn itself still looked the same, old, smelly and full of farm cats. Who, were all different colours and ages, were anti social just like my best friend.

The rest of the time we in the city, watching Forensic Files and playing video games. We ate three meals a day, all of them fulfilling, maybe even a little too much.

But it wasn't until our last supper when his grandmother was giving his grandfather her teenage attitude. He only laughed, bringing a smile to my face because he has one of those laughs that makes you laugh. His mother had a wine glass in her hands and was smiling behind the rim, his father was cracking jokes with him and he had that half smile and smirk on his face.

Then there was me, smiling and watching all of them, the thought, 'It doesn't get any better than this," rushed through my head.

I smiled even wider, realizing how much that was true.