Thanksgiving. There is a hole this thanksgiving. A place that can only be filled with your
presence; yet it remains, because you are gone. I have so many wonderful memories of
thanksgivings past with you in them I know I should just hold on to the good
time and be thankful we go to share them, and a huge part of me is. The aching
emptiness in my heart however, longs for your laughter, your smile at the
table, your stories. I already know which ones you would have told.
You would have told us about when y’all were kids, and Uncle
Bobby, starving said the Thanksgiving blessing as “Good bread, good meat, good
Lord let’s eat.” We would listen as you
recalled the day when you and Bobby tied Reba and the special needs neighbor
kid up in a gunny sack and hid them under the house and the sheriff was called
out to look for them. And you would laugh as you described Aunt Reba’s hair sticking
straight up and she shot out of the bag, once they were found. Your eyes would sparkle, a gleam of fondness,
as you told us about your mom flipping off your dad in church while she was in
the congregation and he was up singing in the choir. And you would have giggled at the knowledge that
the preacher saw her do it too.
We would have all listened intently, as if we had never heard
them before. The simple joy you had
telling these stories, the laughter which ensued, seemed to transport you back
to that time, differing only because this time we would all be right there with
you. Listening to you tell stories was
and will always remain the highlight of my life. I will miss those times with desperate
longing. And maybe, when I get to
heaven, you will have new stories to tell me. I can’t wait to sit there, and
look at you in wonder and awe. And listen as the joy of telling your story
rings like sweet bells in my ears.
Although I resent the fact that you are no longer here with
me; although the pain sometimes is almost too much to bear, I am thankful for
all of the stories you told me. I am thankful for your love, and I am thankful
that you told me your recipes, and that I remember them.
God I miss you. There
are no words to describe how badly I want you at my table this
Thanksgiving. There are no words to
describe how much you will be missed.
Happy early Thanksgiving Ma Maw,
Love,
Krissy
