I asked Google (which knows everything and wouldn't ever lie to me... right?): "What is Friendsgiving?" and Google dug up the following for me out of cyberspace:
"... Friendsgiving is a good way to gather friends, colleagues, or neighbors who are unable to go back home to their family or are wary to travel."
Interesting that there is nothing in Google's notion of Friendsgiving that recognizes that some don't have family "to go back home to" or that some "are wary to travel" because they don't have the money or the days off from work necessary to hop in a car, train, or airplane headed to a faraway destination where family reside.
Regardless of Google's limitations (of which there are some ... sorry Google), I am delighted that the concept of Friendsgiving has gained steam and popularity over the years. It has certainly reduced the stigma associated with not being invited to (or hosting) a large gathering of blood-and-marriage relatives around a gargantuan table with enough food to feed half a village (and still enough left over to serve an additional village of canines and felines). Gone are the days when I feel "less" because the table is set only for two or because Christmas dinner consists of warmed leftovers consumed in front of a Hallmark Christmas movie or a football game (or both).
I never thought that I would spend a holiday season feeling "full and whole". I lack what American culture has traditionally said I need to have to feel that way -- a holiday filled with holiday parties, meal preparations, and large family gatherings.
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring because... we were all exhausted from... socializing.
Of course, there is no proper rhyme to this sentiment, but it still rang true during the 2024 holiday season. It all started on the day before Thanksgiving when we hosted a dinner (or delivered dinner) to friends and neighbors to give a break before the Big Meal Prep started. On Thanksgiving day, we made the long commute to the house across the street where our neighbors Josie and Jack were hosting a large Thanksgiving gathering for friends and family. And so it went through the holiday season. Hosting dinners and enjoying the hosting of others. Cooking, Baking, and No-Baking, exchanging treats until our GI tracts were overloaded with delicious food and launching a protest over the frequent overeating and lack of routine cuisine.
At the end of the season, while making the last long commute from another neighbor's house back home after a lovely New Years Day party, I realized that I had hardly had time to feel lonely or depressed this holiday season.
While Friendsgiving may, in the eyes of some, still only deserve a second or third place finish among the "best" ways to spend the holidays, it has many first place qualities. Almost exclusively, I spend time with people I like and whose company I enjoy. I don't worry about difficult conversations among family members who may not get along with each other. I don't get over-tired by obligation, but have an option to reach that point by choice. I have no large commitments to gift giving, so each gift is amply sprinkled with thought, love, and reflection.
And let's not forget that if I socialize enough, I can largely forget about the fact that a large majority of my work colleagues could care less about what I am doing or how I feel over the holidays.
In 2024, I gained a new appreciation for this modern Friendsgiving plus alternative to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the other holidays that spring up between late November and the first of January.
Who needs those feelings that start to creep in at the start of Thanksgiving week? Feelings of sadness, loneliness, isolation, rejection, and their emotional cousins. Blech.
Adios. Au Revoir. Wiedersehen. Goodbye Holiday Depression.
I am deeply grateful for all the friends who surrounded me this past season. And yes, even for two of my best friends who I happen to be related to by blood or marriage.
In fact, especially so.
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