I started to write this really bitter post about how we're celebrating the day when white people took a break from all the killing and the raping to enjoy some Native American hospitality, and how the more things change the more they stay the same.
And then I was going to write this really sappy post about how grateful I am for having the perfect life, which I am and I do.
But I don't have either in me today. All I can think about is how many families are planning their first Thanksgiving after.
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