Tuesday was my brother’s birthday. He turned 38.

How is it that my own birthday doesn’t really make me feel old (not yet, or not most of the time), but his does? The idea that he’s 38 freaks me the hell out. To be honest, he’s lucky to have made it to 38; the last six or seven years haven’t been so kind to him in his attempts at independence. (He has developmental disabilities and mental health issues, and I was basically born to be his keeper; it’s a long story I’ve discussed elsewhere on this blog.) But from what I hear from other people, he’s in a semi-stable and semi-independent situation now, so I suppose that’s good. Semi-stable and semi-independent are more than I probably could have hoped for him at 38, after all we’ve both been through both together and separately.

Separately it stays for the foreseeable future, because that’s the right decision for me and probably for him too. It started out as a decision of collateral damage after removing our narcissistic toxic mother from my life, but it’s slowly shifted toward a more conscientious and purposeful choice to keep away from him too. However, not a day goes by that I don’t think about his orbit in relation to mine. We are very distinct and disparate planets, and the only thing we have in common is a galaxy, within which we’ve established quite separate revolutions at this point.

Even so…now he’s 38, and that just feels like a really big number to me, even if it is barely two years apart from mine. I don’t know why. It’s just weird.

So, on Tuesday night, I took a moment to look up at the stars, and send up a happy birthday wish that maybe the universe could quietly pass along to him for me, in case he had a chance to see the stars that night too. I hope he had a good day, whatever that might mean for him now. At 38.

With his birthday so close to and often falling on Thanksgiving Day, it’s impossible not to think of him a lot this week. In a different universe, we would be together and share in a day full of reminiscing about Thanksgivings past and enjoying the present. However, he and I live in this universe, currently at opposite ends of it. So it is what it is.

Today is Thanksgiving, and of course the end game is to be grateful and count our blessings. Well, sure, but that can also be hard as hell for trauma survivors, those who are wrestling with or are escaping from toxic relationships, and anybody who’s experienced any kind of loss. We don’t want to present the wrong face today, but we also can’t ignore or bury the less positive feelings that emerge. So what do we do?

Personally, at times like these, I try very hard to keep in mind the “Yes/And” Rule. Here’s how it works: instead of saying you feel a certain way but it’s Thanksgiving and you need to be grateful, turn it around to say, it’s Thanksgiving and I feel grateful, AND also I feel this certain way at the same time. “Yes, but—” is dismissive and suppressive. The “Yes/And” Rule allows enough room for everything you’re experiencing, without the judgment and guilt. It’s Thanksgiving, after all; if the calories on that extra slice of pie don’t count, don’t put a calorie count on your feelings either!

Here are some of my “Yes/And” bites that I’m chewing on today:

Yes, today is Thanksgiving and I have many things in my life for which I am so thankful. AND today is Thanksgiving and many of the memories I have of this holiday bring me no small amount of pain and sadness.

Yes, I am so fortunate to be able to enjoy a bounty of good food and quality time with loved ones. AND I wonder and worry what my brother’s Thanksgiving is like today, what all of his holidays are like.

Yes, separation is best for the two of us. AND it hurts like hell.

Yes, I look forward to sharing another Carvel ice cream turkey treat with my daughter, a tradition I revived a few years ago after remembering a time in childhood when my grandmother would get them for me for the holiday. AND thinking about her feels like opening up a gaping wound in the center of my chest at this time of year (not least because we lost her in early November, back in 2006), and I can’t help feeling robbed of so many holidays I wish we still could have shared.

Yes, I have so many blessings. AND, I know all too well what’s missing.

You have to sit with both the good and the bad. You have to make room for both. Just like the overabundance of stuffing we’re going to enjoy later, there’s an extra helping of feelings during the holidays that we need to set a place for at the table. And, in the spirit of letting myself remember my grandmother and having all the feelings that go with that, I need to say what she would always say. Whatever your feelings are, wherever you need to put them, it’s alright.

Happy Thanksgiving. (And Happy Birthday from the other side of the universe, Nicky.)