Friday, November 26, 2010
We had just under 50 folks for Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, but the guest of honor was Preston, who rallied enough to come over and say the blessing.
Odd that we'd been dreading Grandpa's absence for Thanksgiving manifested by many of my kids peppering me with one particular question, "Who was gonna say the blessing now with Grandpa gone?"
Really y'all, that's your focus?
We'd, all the older people, just naturally asssumed it'd be Preston as the elder one now, but after the week he'd had, an understatement at best, it'd seemed quite unlikely.
I teared up, coming so close to losing him, the fact that he limped over to give the Thanksgiving prayer seemed like a miracle alone.
Sarah fixed him a plate and they had to leave immediately, this being Sarah's favorite holiday, conflicted between not getting to spend time with her cousins versus Preston's health issues, downer might be the only word usable, but I feel guilty even using it, in light of the fact that simply put, he survived.
We had tons of food, maybe subconsciously overdoing it since we knew Sarah wouldn't be overseeing the process, again it was weird without her doing so. Indeed, Yolie's Tahoe was loaded for bear, Grandma'd cooked a massive amount, and none of my dishes are ever small servings.
All the guys went out for football in the meadow after eating, it was very warm weather, and Vanessa'd tried to come surprise me from Alabama, but her car over-heated, calling me sounding all forlorn, me remembering all the times she'd flat out rejected me, funny how things change, and now I truly do miss her. Her original sib group of seven minus her pictured here.
A sib group once presented to me as fairly good kids...Lord Have Mercy, were they a challenging group, or what? Five out of seven have been on probation at various times. Now they range from age 13-23, left to right would be Allen 15, Miriam, 21, Mayra 17, JoJo 13, Edgar 23, and Fabian 18.
I missed Jesse, Lena and Isaiah spectacularly.
I was just so focused on Preston's survival though that I thought this had been the best Thanksgiving ever, until surprisingly much later, verified by a flurry of phone calls, several folks out of 50, had come down with a weird stomach ailment.
There was no rhyme nor reason, and it passed quickly, but one of my brothers had to tend to a very sick daughter who had a stomach infection, an ongoing several week issue that resulted in an ER trip last night.
Jack clearly missed Grandpa immensely yesterday, hyped up and bordering on irritating behaviors, the grief counselor is scheduled to get with us next week.
He accidentally broke a platter, while Tony, on purpose, provoking everyone the entire day, threatening to run away, eventually broke the pretty bowl that had held the mashed potatoes...minimalism is a cinch around here.