It was still dark when i got back home.
First light hadn’t even touched the horizon. The waning crescent moon hung over Mexico, its brilliant white points pointing even more toward the dark of heavens.
She would be boarding as i put the car in the garage.
The ride back was lonely.
i already miss her but i am glad she is gone back to getting on with her life.
Our daughter Sarah was here for five very short wonderful days. She will turn twenty-seven on Wednesday. It is easy to remember her birthday, day, month, year. She was born about 9:35 p.m. the day i retired from the Navy.
Sarah’s maturity, wisdom, caring shows through. She is pursuing her passion. She is growing up. She is still my little girl.
My thanksgivings, all of the ones except when i was deployed to some place, have been about family. There were two in recent years when Maureen and i ate out, not alone of course because it was the two of us, but it was still family. All of the others have been with more family.
Even though i treasure those Thanksgivings back in Lebanon, Red Bank, and Rockwood with my parents, sister, brother, aunts, uncles, and cousins, my favorite two remain when daughter Blythe, Jason, and brand new grandson Sam came out west for the big day. And this one was extra special in spite of the absence of one-half of the jim jewell clan because the three of of us shared something more than just a parent-daughter relationship. We spent the entire five days being friends.
Sarah is back in Austin now. The day is cloudy, even cold enough for me to have a fire in the fireplace tonight. Sitting by the fire a Saturday after Thanksgiving seems about right for an old man who misses a lot of folks, especially this special daughter. But i have memories: