I’m not depressed. Not exactly. I just miss my dad. He would have been so proud of me and the work I’ve done in my kitchen the last couple of weekends.
This morning I was thinking about our Christmas traditions. For the last few years my family has done a white elephant gift exchange. It’s one “good” gift with one “bad” that are bundled together – sometimes that judgment is left in the eye of the beholder. You roll dice to get a pair of gifts, to steal someone else’s gifts, to barter and exchange. It ends up being an hour of laughing so hard my stomach hurts. (I know I’m very lucky — this happens frequently during the holidays now.)
This year there’s a new addition — it’s also an ugly sweater party. With prizes. I don’t think mine will be the ugliest — my nieces are very creative — but it probably will be the shiniest — both sequins and gold sparkles.
My dad would have loved this. Chances are he would have conspired with one of his grandkids to find his sweater. My dad loved second hand stores, and would probably have made them take him to two or three. He would have proudly put on the most hideous thing he could find then pat his chest and tell everyone that it was be-you-tee-ful. I know he’ll be there in spirit, laughing with all of us.
Still. I miss him so much sometimes.