my first thanksgiving without grandpa

Yesterday marked the seventh month that my grandpa passed away. It's hard to believe it's already been half of a year. I guess living out of state has a few advantages - at least I'm not surrounded by the places he used to be, looking at the empty space that fills his chair at the dinner table at family dinner Sundays. 

They always say holidays are the worst after a death in the family and I suppose it's true. The Fourth passed with little heartache - maybe it was still too fresh. Maybe it was being surrounded by family that kept it at bay. Whatever the reason, being home for the Fourth of July didn't hurt. Halloween didn't hurt. 

But Thanksgiving - this hurts. It occurred to me a few weeks ago that I didn't really have a reason to try out a new baking recipe this year. It's always filled me with a giddy excitement to try out a new recipe to surprise him with. Mini pies in mason jars, pie tart bites, homemade cakes with homemade caramel frosting, old fashioned candy, you name it, I tried it in hopes of getting one of his rare smiles and a "that's pretty good," seal of approval. Usually I got the smile and the seal of approval because one, I was his favorite, and two, the man loved the dessert table. 

One of my biggest successes in life has to be mastering the art of the homemade pie crust. I can do it. It's buttery and flaky, doesn't burn and isn't gooey. It's perfect. Don't get me wrong, my mom and grandma will still eat up an entire pecan pie if I make it for them, but it's not the same as making something "for grandpa." 

Thanksgiving is a time to reflect on your life, your year, and give thanks to God for all that you've gone through and come out the other side of. This year, I'll thank Him for getting me this far in my life, for a job that I still have, the friends that support me in whatever I do, the family that loves me no matter how much I complain, and for giving me the dreams and ambitions to continue to strive for more for my life. And then I'll thank Him for my time that I had with my grandfather. While nearly 27 years isn't nearly enough time to know someone, I'm so incredibly thankful that I had all those years. That I could sit in his chair with him and take all those Sunday afternoon naps, venture out to the barn, littered with wood shavings on the floor to watch him make most of the furniture that's in my house, and see the sun rise in the quiet stillness of perfect summer Saturday mornings. 

And when it's time for Christmas, and we decorate the tree - I'll make sure to put enough tinsel on the tree, because that's his favorite part about it. 

Photo courtesy of Table Party of Two