and give thanks for our many blessings. It has been a good year for me
personally and professionally. My first book, “Quest for the Red Sapphire”
was published and its sequel should be out in the next couple of months.
It was a rough year on the health front but things seem to be getting back to
normal. My wife is perfect, as always. As for my children, the two
still in school are honors students and my oldest is maturing into a fine young
man. I am a man with no reason to complain and therefore I won’t.
That’s not the topic of this blog. You see, Thanksgiving means something
else to my family as well. We are big on traditions where I come from and
one is the big breakfast Thanksgiving morning designed to hold everyone over
through football until it is turkey time. My children look forward to this
because we are seldom all together for a meal and it is a lot of fun…unless you
are preparing it and then you want to sleep in. Four years ago was just
such a morning. The kids came into my bedroom to wake my wife and me by
jumping on us. That started a tickle war and a lot of laughing. Then
the phone rang. The cordless phone had been knocked off the charger so I
hit the speaker button on the base and answered. My sister was on the
line. It was not uncommon to hear from relatives on Thanksgiving and so I
thought nothing of it. Then she told me to take it off speakerphone.
I knew right then that something was wrong. I ran downstairs, retrieved
the other phone and took it off speaker. She informed me that she was at
our parent’s house and that Mom had just lost her battle with cancer. I
knew she was in bad shape but the news was still quite a shock. After
talking and crying for some time I hung up the phone. Slowly I returned to
my room where the merriment had not ended. Then my wife saw my face and
ordered all the children to leave. Once they did I told her what had
happened. How was I going to tell the children? My wife left it up
to me to choose the time. We went downstairs and quietly made
breakfast. As the children ate, I could not help but ache from the loss of
my sole supporter before I met my wife. When the meal ended the children
were comparing my frozen orange juice with grandma’s because according to them,
“They must grow better oranges in Canada because her orange juice tastes
better.” At that moment I felt it was time. I braced them for
it and then revealed the sad news. The kids loved to visit her and the
thought of her passing was not taken well. My mother was buried a few days
later on my oldest daughter’s birthday. This is not a blog for
mourning. I have done plenty of that. It is a blog about
Thanksgiving. I am thankful for the lessons she taught me. I am
thankful she encouraged me to write. I am thankful for the hundreds of
nights she fell asleep listening to one of my stories from one of my
books. I am thankful she made me promise to publish them. I am
thankful she told me when I was dating my wife not to let her get away.
And most of all; I am thankful that I was one of a privileged few who had the
honor of calling her mother. Thanksgiving is meant to honor the gifts we
have been given; not mourn the ones we lost. If somehow you can read this,
Mom, thank you for everything. I love you.