It is a bit of a curse, on Thanksgiving, to be both dutiful and perverse.
Amend that. It is a bit of a curse every day.
But the friction between duty and perversity reaches fever pitch on Thanksgiving, day of turkey and cranberry sauce and enforced gratitude. You're racked, on Thanksgiving, by conflicting wants: To bow your head; to stick out your tongue. To feed your soul; to bite the hand that feeds you. To eat the bird; to flip the bird.
Mostly, the answer is to drown your sorrows in stuffing.
But also, yes, to give thanks -for two hands, and all the pieces of your heart.