This will be the first Thanksgiving without my father. While I hate to even think about it, I’ve been trying to prepare myself for it because he would hate for any of us to be miserable. He would understand our sadness. He would understand our missing him. But it would break his heart for us not to be able to enjoy the day.
So I’m doing my best to get ready for this first holiday season without my Daddy.
Last year he didn’t come to the table. He ate in the den in his chair where it was more comfortable for him. So rather than standing in the dining room for the blessing, we stood in the den so that he could still give it. Tradition, you know.
It’s also kind of a running joke in our family, because Daddy gave the fastest blessing in the history of blessings. He also spoke softly, so if you wanted to hear what was being said, you had to really concentrate. When my mother’s father was alive, he always laughed and said, “What did he say?” every single time.
Some people called it a “whiplash” blessing, because no sooner had you bowed your head than you were raising it back up.
It was simple.
Lord, thank you for the food that you so kindly give.
Let us show our thanks in the way we talk and live.
How I am going to miss hearing it and the man who spoke those words this year. But I will also give thanks for that man, who was one of the greatest blessings in my life.
That’s Papa and Tater Tot last Thanksgiving. Those two were really something together. I am beyond thankful that my Daddy lived long enough to enjoy his grandson; to love him and be loved by him.