Thanksgiving Two Years Later

It all started two years ago around the Thanksgiving season. Shortly before Thanksgiving, Dad was diagnosed with Cancer.

That year on Thanksgiving was the first day I saw him since the diagnosis. I’ll never forget that Thanksgiving. Mom, JJ, and I had a Thanksgiving lunch at a nearby café. It was anything but normal; quiet, and fairly solemn. But after the meal, we got to spend the day with Dad at the hospital.

Upon entering the room, he gave out his priceless smile. He then proceeded to see if I wanted any of his coffee (which was always covered with a white, paper lid) and two creamers. This was something he’d continue to do whenever he was in the hospital for those final 15 months. I, of course, almost always said, “No.” Never fear, there were always other “goodies” Dad tried to pass off — basic, iceberg lettuce salads, vegetables, and anything else he thought might be too healthy.

We left the hospital that night, but Dad could not come.

He could not come home with us, but he was still physically on Earth with us.

And same with last year. Dad was here. My heart was happy; I was filled with so much gratitude while reflecting on Thanksgiving One Year Later.

But here we are, Thanksgiving two years later.

I won’t pretend that this Thanksgiving was all doom and gloom; far from it. Ryan and I returned to one of our favorite Thanksgiving traditions, which is coming to Kansas City to my sister and brother-in-laws with Ryan’s family.

The amount of food and laughter that filled yesterday didn’t leave much room for doom and gloom.

When I woke up, though, I went for a little walk and listened to Dad’s playlist. I played a little game with myself and said, “Dad wants me to hear this first song today.” I then set the playlist on shuffle.

Daddy’s Hands played.

It wasn’t expected, but as I listened to the lyrics, knew it was exactly what I needed.

The first Thanksgiving was incredibly sad, and the second one felt hopeful.

This Thanksgiving two years later left me feeling the void of Dad not here. I found myself staring a lot yesterday as I remembered Dad and what he would have been doing if he were at Thanksgiving still.

And yet there was so much gratitude. I was thankful for this past year with Mom and JJ. And I was thankful for Ryan, Samarah, Isaiah, and Amiya. I was thankful for all other immediate family and friends who are family.

When I thought about our hurt, the pain of missing Dad, I was also able to find the joy and gratitude from him no longer suffering.

On Thanksgiving two years later, finding that joy and gratitude is probably about the best place I could hope to find myself.

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Xox, SKH