Peace and love to you all.
We have the turkey. We have the stuffing. We have the potatoes. We have the gravy. We have the yams with marshmallows. We have the corn mix. We have the sparkling apple juice. We have the Macy's Parade. We have the Cowboys playing. We have the dog show. We have the decor and the plates and the napkins and everything that makes today Thanksgiving. The only thing we don't have here is my dad. It's been an interesting day. With just the three of us, more of the cooking duties fell to us than we expected. Doing the yams or mixing up the gravy, for instance, were always my dad's job. He would prepare the turkey just so and, if it worked or not, it was the fault or blessing of the turkey. He was a presence in the kitchen that was missed (at times). It was tough not having him at the table with us. But on this day of thanks, we have so much we are grateful for. Our friends and family who have been with us throughout all of this. Plenty of food to eat and a nice warm house around us. Our cats who are pains but adorable. Laughter and teasing and jokes. More things than we can mention. And, of course, the years we got to spend with Dad. It wasn't enough, no, but then can it ever really be enough? We always hope for more time in our lives. More years with those we love. More years to simply be. Maybe, though, on a day like this, we can just be thankful for the years we have. The days and hours we have right now that we are blessed to live in this beautiful, wide world of ours. So, today we are sad but we are grateful for so much, none more than to God for allowing us the time to celebrate with one another. May you have more blessings than you can imagine today and every day. Happy Thanksgiving. Thanks be to God.
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Peace and love to you all.
Every year, I knew the holiday season (including Thanksgiving) was in full effect when I would smell peanut brittle being cooked upstairs. Every year, Dad would make batch after delicious batch of the hard, sweet candy and mail it off to family, making sure to keep the best parts for the four of us. It was a tradition and something he loved doing. So, when he passed, one of the questions that came up was whether or not it would continue to be prepared and sent out. I offered to take on the mantle, having helped and learned how to do it from him last winter, and that was that. However, now that it's November and time to actually make the stuff, I was...apprehensive. How would I do? Would it be awful? Would it be even a little bit as good as Dad's? Well, I made my first batch this afternoon. And it was perfect. Exactly the right amount of peanuts and brittle and sugar and everything. It was like Dad had made it instead of me. There were tears, I won't lie. It's...hard to put into words what continuing a tradition feels like. On one hand, you don't feel ready. On the other, you feel as if you have to be. It's tricky. Right now, it's tough. I feel both closer to Dad and miss him that much more. I hope he would be proud at how I did. I like to think he is. I hope you eat something sweet today and think of those you love. Peace and love to you all.
Well, it's happened. We fought it as long as we could, but snow has finally come to the Dakotas. It wasn't as much as we were expecting (small miracles!), but it seems likely that we won't see grass until April or May now. Yes, winter has arrived and the sweaters need to be pulled out of storage, the shorts need to be put away, and the cars need to be checked daily to make sure the dang batteries aren't dead. This was not Dad's favorite time of the year. Sure, he loved Thanksgiving and Christmas - two dates that we'll address when they come - but the actual season of winter? No, thank you. On a day like yesterday or today, there would have been grousing and complaining about the stupid roads and how cold it is and why do we live here again and how he couldn't wait to go down south and start life down there. He would have been grumpy about the roads being icy and the knuckleheaded drivers. But he would have taken Mom to work and said goodbye and, secretly, been happy that he could do that and keep her safe. A task that now falls to us boys, although we're not doing it every day because we have our own things to do! As we move into this season of cold and hibernation, it reminds us that in all of life, there are seasons of life, love, rebirth and then seasons of death and mourning. We cannot have the former without the latter, much as we want to. So, because Dad lived a life as rich as he did, so too must we forge a new path through the snows of life after him. Along the way, there will be high points and low points, but the cold will come all the same. Sometimes thriving is possible. Sometimes simply making it through is enough. May you stay warm, stay comfortable, and stay loved as the seasons change. |
AuthorAfter 43 years of ministry, Randy Cross lived his "fourth life" and shared about retirement, living boldly and intentionally in our world. To be sure, there was some North Dakota thrown in. Archives
March 2023
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