It was 1956, and Mom was busy making her great turkey dinner on a sunny Thanksgiving Day! We all had a chore or two to do, and in anticipation of a great dinner, were busily doing it.
But oddly, something was amiss! Where was Dad?
We lived in a small ranch house at the time. My Mother’s youngest sister was coming for the holiday, and as usual, the two families would spend the holiday together. But where was Dad?
The table was being set, the turkey roasting away and Mom in her uniform of the day, an apron over her dress, quietly cooked the masterpiece. But where was Dad?
I got the gallon of home made wine out, and placed it on the table, just like Dad wanted. We placed cloth napkins around the plates, but where was Dad?
Suddenly from out of the bedroom we could all hear: “Lena!” It was Dad!
Mom went into the bedroom and spoke with Dad. Mom came out and called my aunt. Dad’s sister: Angie. Meanwhile we were called into the bedroom to say our last goodbyes to Dad. He was dieing, and it was time to say: “Goodbye.”
Dad didn’t say much, just looked at us with a dogged face and cough. I was near tears, water was welling up in my eyes, and I couldn’t see anything, let alone Dad. Suddenly there was a commotion at the door and my Aunt Angie appeared. She suggested, before we buried Dad, to call the doctor. Mom was strangely quiet all this time, like she knew something, but would go along with Dad.
I wondered: “Would God take Dad on Thanksgiving Day? With a turkey and Italian stuffing in the over? My God! The turkey wasn’t even cooked through yet!”
The doctor spoke to Mom on the phone, and after a brief conversation with Aunt Angie, my aunt went: “Ooh Fah! Tony, all you have is the flu!”
We all laughed at the sight of us all standing over Dad, wringing hands and all.
Remember those like Joan and DD who need our prayers.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
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