The cool air is sweeping down from the north and here in the south we are turning up our thermostats in an attempt to chase away the chills of the inevitable. If you’re like me, your fridge is as stuffed as you are and you’re quite happy.
This year, like most years in my household, we celebrated Thanksgiving in our own peaceful and tranquil way. A tradition we implemented years ago. A tradition I have strive to keep. A tradition I attribute to a youth spent either traveling to cities and towns to visit relatives and friends with all the stress and hectic craziness a family of six can inflict upon one another. Then in later years, after the divorce, celebrating separately under stress with people I didn’t know, didn’t want to know with even more stress. Later, the fights started amongst the adults, with us kids hiding in the basements of whatever house we were in or if it was nice outside, we’d wander off and try and find a safe place to wait for everything to blow over. Even later still, celebrating alone, in a junkyard with nothing but a campfire and some purloined cans of food from a local grocery store all the while swearing to myself that if I ever had my own family, I’d never allow them to go through what I went through.
Which brings me to today…
My daughter came home from college. Only for a day and a half. Enough time for two sleeps and a few good meals. Enough time to fill my heart with her love again. We talked, I made her food. We talked more. Watched television. I made breakfast. We talked. I made Thanksgiving dinner and she helped. We ate and talked and watched more television. We hugged and I lied to myself she would never leave home again.
The next day, we took her back to college and went home.
But she was still there.
At least the memory of her is. Her laughter still resounds off the walls. Her footfalls still echo on the stairs. Her perfume still lingers on the couch cushions. There is still the warmth of my only child filling the home I live in.
In years past I felt that the spirit of Christmas had left me. And it truly had. However, after my daughters brief visit and the feeling of love, care and joy I had for her. Of how wonderful she has made our lives, well, I just can’t let that slip by. It has truly been a precursor of what I have overlooked in my life. Of how lucky I have been.
My daughter, who made me a father, and made my family. Made my house a home. Made me thankful this Thanksgiving and has filled my empty tank of Christmas spirit to overflowing.
My daughter who brought warmth to my cool.
Happy Thanksgiving.
