Consistent Turkey
I suppose structure is something I've always lacked in my life, but Thanksgiving with my father has always been the ray of consistency in my inconsistent life. At the age of nine I was a bit too fond of my sisters boyfriend and it was around Thanksgiving time that we were heavily involved in gaming. Unfortunately, the first Thanksgiving my father came to spend with us, I thought I’d be able to spend with my sisters boyfriend, playing video games, but once my dad showed up out of the blue, I had completely forgotten about games. Considering I hadn’t spent a single holiday with him since I was six, I was a bit puzzled as to how it would work. To my delight it came to be one of my favorite holidays.
I recall the gloomy fall of 2013 and the depressing mood that surrounded it. In attempts to cheer me up my father tempted me with the idea that he’d let his mustache grow out. I had always been fond of mustaches and from a very young age I’d nag him to grow his mustache out.
Upon his arrival the night prior to Thanksgiving, he sported a bushy black mustache with the slightest hints of grey. I absorbed all his features, from his clouded brown eyes to his short arched fingers. I took into account that his facial hair seemed to draw attention from his large, beer guzzling gut ultimately making him look slimmer. Although his smile had always given off a warm teddy bear feeling, I felt a warmer embrace than usual and thanked him for his contribution to my happiness which he replied to with the cliche, “Anything for you.”
RAdams2
We would spend all of Thanksgiving trying to catch up, attempting to fit in a whole years worth of events into one night. Everyone would be so eager to talk to my dad and me being the youngest I’d always somehow get the most attention. It felt so wholesome to have my dad sit across the table from me. We’d eat in peace, but once we finished we’d simply stay at the table for hours. It didn’t matter if our butts ached and if our bladders whined, we would enjoy each others company for as long as possible. Although we’d go to sleep way too late on Thursday, we’d always manage to wake up around 6 am on Black Friday. Perhaps it was the excitement of having my father in town for the week or the excitement of buying new things, but I would be a happy early bird. Whoever woke up first would have to make coffee and set the table for breakfast. We would only drink our coffee, eat some mexican bread and head out as quick as we could. We never had much of a pattern in which stores to go to first, but we’d simply decide in the car. I think this is one of our traditions that I hold most captive in my mind because I’ve always enjoyed moments in which I felt like I had a family.
As the youngest daughter I’ve always been pegged to be daddy’s little girl, but when your father isn’t around much it’s not very easy. The distance put a strain on my relationship with him, but there are still moments that I’ve shared with him that I hold dear. For example, the
Thanksgiving of the year 2011 in which he held my hand. It may sound sad and pathetic, but on the contrary, it was happy and worth it. It was the
