My family is not one to argue at Thanksgiving, surprisingly. If we’re arguing, it’s not about the things that families usually argue about. We’ve had arguments about how to spell words, how stories actually went, and things like that. My family unit is usually small for Thanksgiving – no big tent outside with five plastic tables with tablecloths on it – just one table with both of the leaves inserted and a lot of Fiestaware from my grandmother’s house. I feel like a lot of people despise Thanksgiving for obvious reasons, but I have never felt that resentment towards my family. Everyone lives down the road: just a call away. I set the scene this way because I love my family, but sometimes conversations can turn sour, even for the most unconventional Thanksgivings.

This particular conversation turned sour almost immediately. Sitting across from me is my non-Fiestaware-bearing grandmother, Nana, who went to beauty school and later went to medical school to become an Anesthesiologist. She still works too – just limited hours. We are so vastly different in both demeanor and outlook – her current demeanor is diminished by the glass of Thanksgiving wine she is sporting. I am drinking water after finishing our dreaded yearly 5K and then making a good portion of the food that was sitting on the table, emitting steam.

Nana and my grandfather, Poppy, have always been the odd couple to me. Nana is an outspoken wine grandmother. She has a lot on her mind and watches MSNBC a lot. We have a lot of conversations where we butt-heads. Poppy is reserved, but insightful. He never finished college, he left the last semester for reasons that I still don’t understand. He will have very complicated and thoughtful conversations with me when it is just the two of us. If Nana is there, I barely hear anything from him.

It’s not that Nana hasn’t been supportive, but the tone of the “you need to like what you do, but also make sure you’re making money” that throws me off every time. The entire family has historically been worried about money – if Gigi was here, she would have said something along that vein as well in agreement. I can’t say I don’t understand where they’re coming from – if I was planning on living in West Virginia for the rest of my life, I’d be worried for myself too as a creative. I guess that’s where I am conflicted.

I love Nana, I just sometimes find myself in moments of pent-up anger that someone with a generation between us doesn’t understand my passions. She really does love me, and everything she says is in a positive light. She means all of it from a sincere place in her heart, even if it might not translate that way over to me. This is something I would like to remind myself of during the holiday season when I am spending more time with them. I also need to remind myself not to be resentful of things that my family might say to me generally, as I really will never know how much time I have left with them. However, she does think that I will be the next big writer for Saturday Night Live – and that was something I was offended by.