Unless the doctors are wrong, and I don’t think they are, this is the last Thanksgiving I will share and celebrate with my Dad. The day is bittersweet. It is hard watching illness rob him of his strength and health. Yet, on this day of giving thanks, I am deeply grateful for the witness of his life.
I am grateful for the memories…
The songs I remember he and my mom singing as we started off on vacations.
Sitting at the dinner table with him as he challenged my brothers and me to do math problems in my head without using our fingers.
His teaching me to play Hearts and then sitting on the back patio on summer evenings playing against me and my friend.
And, I am grateful for how he cared for and provided for his family.
And, how he loved his wife.
And, all they were able to do together.
And, I am grateful for his love which I never for a moment had a reason to doubt.
And, for his support and encouragement even in those moments he didn’t understand or agree with the position I took.
I will be sad when I look at him at the dinner table today.
And, I will miss him deeply when he dies.
But, most of all I will be grateful for the witness of his life.