November 22, 1956

It makes me feel very old to say this, but today - this very day - I can officially say that I remember something that happened 50 years ago. I remember with perfect clarity this picture being taken:



It's Thanksgiving night, 1956, and I was 2 years, 2 months old. We were at Uncle Bob's house for the holiday dinner, and it was my Aunt Dorothy who took this photo. In my hands, I'm fondling a flashbulb she gave me right after she took this other picture of my dad and me:



Look at Dad's big hands, cuddling and protecting me. And my mother looks so beautiful. What an incredible lady she was. They were both such amazing people. I miss them so much. My whole family is gone - my parents, grands, aunts, uncles, everybody. It's just me alone with my memories now.

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving anymore; I haven't for 20 years. My father died at Thanksgiving in 1985, you see, so for me the day no longer has any festive connotations. Dad dying under those circumstances was the worst tragedy of my life, actually.

But I DO fondly recall all those other Thanksgivings Past, when my world was young and whole and happy. For all that my family gave to me over all those years, I do give thanks, every single day...




( Something else I remember doing that night. )

 

November 22, 1956

It makes me feel very old to say this, but today - this very day - I can officially say that I remember something that happened 50 years ago. I remember with perfect clarity this picture being taken:



It's Thanksgiving night, 1956, and I was 2 years, 2 months old. We were at Uncle Bob's house for the holiday dinner, and it was my Aunt Dorothy who took this photo. In my hands, I'm fondling a flashbulb she gave me right after she took this other picture of my dad and me:



Look at Dad's big hands, cuddling and protecting me. And my mother looks so beautiful. What an incredible lady she was. They were both such amazing people. I miss them so much. My whole family is gone - my parents, grands, aunts, uncles, everybody. It's just me alone with my memories now.

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving anymore; I haven't for 20 years. My father died at Thanksgiving in 1985, you see, so for me the day no longer has any festive connotations. Dad dying under those circumstances was the worst tragedy of my life, actually.

But I DO fondly recall all those other Thanksgivings Past, when my world was young and whole and happy. For all that my family gave to me over all those years, I do give thanks, every single day...




( Something else I remember doing that night. )