Every year at Thanksgiving time I get moody and I never remember why until I remember why. Sound crazy - but it's true.
My dad died in December and the last time I saw him was Thanksgiving. We had a hard relationship over the years (me as a teenager, my dad with multiple affairs). It was rocky, but my dad fought hard to create a better relationship and I'm so grateful when he died suddenly, we were at a loving place. He died doing what he loved - running. It was an aneurism.
Anyway, that year I called him to ask if we could come for Thanksgiving. We had (and always and forever) no relationship with his new wife (super, super long story involving their affair). He paused (I thought he was going to say no because of his wife) ... I told him no problem if he already had plans.
His answer -- I could have plans with the Queen of England and I'd always choose you.
Two weeks before Thanksgiving my mother-in-law died from a long battle with cancer. I called my dad to cancel Thanksgiving plans because we couldn't leave hubby's dad and handicapped brother alone. Dad offer to host us all if that was something that would be welcomed. Everyone loved the idea so Thanksgiving as planned.
On the phone, I told my dad there was always another year. Except there wouldn't be ... he died 2 weeks after Thanksgiving.
After dinner that night, my dad and I went into his study and talked. We talked about losing a parent at our age (his dad died young too). We talked about death and life and everything. We talked about how much we are alike. He told me what he wished for my life. Things we NEVER talked about. He introduced me to the song "Time to Say Goodbye." Showed me the book he was reading. Showed me the his notebook for the song he wrote and sang at my wedding. (PS. I stole it from his wife at the funeral-- she wouldn't give it too me, but dad had showed me where it was and it was mine).
There are a three times in my life that I feel a higher power blessed me in a very specific way (I know all of life is a blessing, etc) but this is different. I was given a directed blessing that day. No one can tell me otherwise.
I'm forever grateful for that Thanksgiving, those conversations and my blessing. Thanksgiving week is the time I most miss my dad ... not his birthday, not the anniversary of his death, not Father's Day. I get excited about the holidays - happy times and all of a sudden I feel sad. Then I remember why. It's been 17 years.
It's interesting because I'm sad but simultaneously so immensely grateful - I don't know which makes me more emotional. I usually have one day when I run to "Time to Say Goodbye" and stop when I'm all cried out. Then I'm okay. A run and a song for my dad.
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