My dad loved Thanksgiving. He always said it was the best holiday because it was all about family and friends. That was my dad, all about family and friends.
I'm not a big fan of Thanksgiving. It is the worst holiday for me because it brings back memories of my dad. My dad passed away Thanksgiving night a few years ago, just a few hours after volunteering at a homeless shelter passing out meals to those in need.
I miss my dad. Thanksgiving is all about my dad.
Every Thanksgiving, as the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade plays on television, I remember the years in New York when we would get up at the crack of dawn and head to the parade route, standing and jostling for position with other New Yorkers. Everyone else in the family complained about going. Not me or my dad. It was our idea. Other parades just don't compare to the Macy's parade when you see it live. It's a truly great experience. And we did it free, all the way, well except for the few tokens we paid to get there. We knew where to stand so we got to see star performances for free.
Even Black Friday shopping, which I love because of the bargains I get, is not the same any more. It's where I was when I got the news about my dad. Standing with a bunch of strangers waiting for a sale to begin. It took me a few years to be able to return to the sales. It just wasn't fun.
But now my family has made new traditions. We have a meal we prepare together. Then we put up our Christmas tree. And watch "It's A Wonderful Life."
Very simple. But inexpensive. And memorable.
My dad would approve.
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