My Father's Daughter

When I was young, holidays were always a big deal at our house. Every celebration always involved family, both immediate and extended, gathered around the table for a huge traditional, homemade meal. These holiday get-togethers almost always took place at my parents’ house, no matter how old my sisters and I were. It continued long after we each had children of our own. I will admit that there were times my father’s insistence that we keep the same tradition was slightly annoying. I longed to start new traditions of my own – I wanted to host a holiday at my own house instead of always rushing out the door to make it to my parents’ house on time.

Sometimes you don’t fully appreciate what you have until it is gone. After my father’s death in 1999, I yearned for my family to all be together again under one roof celebrating holidays. I missed the familiar routines. Change can be so difficult.

Catastrophic change occurred when my son Jordan passed away in 2016. Rather than finding comfort in the familiar, I tried desperately to avoid many of our family customs – I didn’t want the traditional meals he liked so much. It hurt to carry on in the same way when he wasn’t there. As a family we struggled to begin new traditions without Jordan, but I still wanted loved ones gathered together. Sharing special days with those I love is like oxygen to me. I am my father’s daughter.

This year, due to other plans and commitments, my husband and I found we would spend Easter alone. Easter dinner this year would be a special buffet at a local restaurant... and reservations were made for two. I felt disappointment as we headed into the Easter weekend... sad that the family wouldn’t be together to celebrate. But over the course of many reflective hours, I realized the love we have for our family members lives on in our hearts, whether we are gathered together or separated by other commitments or even death. My husband and I ate way too much, and we will be talking about those waffles with berries and whipped cream for years to come. We made a wonderful memory and shared laughs and love. We talked about those we love and missed, and it was like sharing the day with them. At a table for two, the family was still gathered.

Life can be very brief – it can be fragile. Things don’t always turn out the way we want and although they say nothing stays the same, I realize that love does.

I love you, Dad. Thanks for placing such a high value on family. I understand how you felt all those years ago.

I love and miss you so much, Jordan. No matter what we do, holidays are not the same without you. Your absence is felt in both big and small ways. It wasn’t part of our traditional fare, but I know you would have loved the waffles!