Many years ago, when I was just a child, my entire family would congregate for Thanksgiving.  The men would spend most of the morning and part of the afternoon hunting, while my mother slaved away in the kitchen preparing a turkey with all of the side dishes.  We lived in Indiana at that time, so it was usually cold and snowy outside.   Although my parents are no longer living, part of that tradition remains alive.  My sister usually has a large feast for her family.  She always sees to it that I am included, although there are times when I do not feel that I should not be there.  After all, I am part of her original family, but not the family she has now.  I realize many people will not understand the difference, but believe me it is their at least in my mind.   This year I am truly hurt by the absence of my brother.  Even though we have drawn away from one another throughout the last few years, at least we have kept some sort of contact until now.  I have written to him, but my e-mail has gone unanswered.  I do not expect to receive a last-minute reply from him.   Almost all of the mental health therapist's I have seen have told me to try and forget him.  That is easier said than done.  How can I wipe away the memories of a family member who I grew up with and have known and loved for nearly sixty years?  To me, that seems rather coldhearted and uncaring.  I am not such a person nor do I want to become one.   Wherever my brother may be this Thanksgiving, I truly hope that he is well, happy, and with those he loves.   Quotes of Attitude:   “On a gloomy, rainy morning, it came little eight-year-old Tommy's turn to say the blessing at breakfast,"We thankThee for this beautiful day," he prayed. His mother asked him why he said that when the day was anything but beautiful,"Mother," said he, with rare wisdom, "never judge a day by its weather.”  Anonymous