I counted down the days until Thanksgiving of 2012. After Phil had been in boot camp for what seemed like an eternity, I would finally get to talk to him and see him at Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving had become one of my favorite holidays because I knew that in the church industry coming home for Christmas would be tricky... But Thanksgiving? I could do Thanksgiving easily. This was also the holiday when we had custody of Grandma Woodson because she always spent Christmas in Carrolton with Aunt Jean, Uncle Hossein, Erica, and Michael. Each year, our Carrolton branch would come down and we would join in on the Hart/Woodson Thanksgiving extravaganza. Though Thanksgiving was great each year (even when I accidentally locked myself in the bathroom and Corey had to come to my rescue and pick the lock) this year was going to be especially wonderful because Philip was home and I could finally talk to him not through snail mail. This was shaping up to THE BEST THANKSGIVING EVER!!!!!! until....
Two days before Thanksgiving I got food poisoning. Yep. Food poisoning. During Thanksgiving week. That was almost as fun as getting braces the Monday before Thanksgiving in 8th grade.
After spending over 40 hours throwing up everything I had eaten in my 23 years of life, I was finally headed to the Hart's house where my baby cousin awaited. Each of us were wearing bright yellow shirts that Aunt DeeDee had made for Phil's boot camp graduation which made spotting Phil easy because he would be the only one not wearing said yellow shirt. As we pulled into the driveway I looked for Phil and was on the verge of jumping out of the car before it was even parked just because I was that excited to FINALLY see him. I figured that after spending so much time in boot camp my once scrawny cousin would now resemble a less green version of the Incredible Hulk. I finally spotted Phil and I was right about one thing - he was the only one not in a yellow shirt.
Grateful that boot camp had not wiped the floor with my baby cousin, I hugged him as tight as I could without snapping him in half. I couldn't wait to swamp stories and hear everything. So much had happened!! He had become one of America's finest and was now officially a Marine. He had his endurance and determination tested yet still prevailed. He had become a hero and experienced so much more in those weeks than I could ever handle. Phil had become even more amazing than he already was and I couldn't wait to hear all about his journey. And as for me... Well I had just gotten my beloved cocker spaniel, Barney, and had so many stories about him that clearly were of the same intensity and greatness of all that Phil was about to tell me.
I can't remember much about what he said... It may have been because I was weak from being violently ill for two days straight... It may have been because I was too focused on which bingo card would be the lucky one... But I think it was actually because I was just so happy to have Philip home and to spend time with him. Philip had become so much more than my baby cousin, he had become a Marine and a man I am so incredibly proud to call my family.
That Thanksgiving has etched an extra special mark on my heart because it ended up being the last Thanksgiving I would spend with two of the most wonderful people I know: Philip and my Grandma Woodson. I'm grateful that at that time I didn't know it would be our last one together. I'm grateful that I enjoyed that Thanksgiving like I had so many ones before. I'm grateful that the food poisoning deities had shown mercy on me and spared me of acidic agony for just a short while. I am grateful that we came together as family, broke bread, and enjoyed that precious day.
I am really struggling with the fact that I will not have another Thanksgiving like that again. Though I can wear the yellow shirt and I can eat delicious food, I will never have that moment again. And just when I feel like Grandma and Phil are so far away, I'm reminded of another Thanksgiving table where bread was broken, love was shared, and promises were made. Soon we will be at that table again - breaking bread with the ones we love most and hugging Philip as tight as I can without snapping him in half.
Philip has joined the great communion of saints and I thank God that each of us have a place at that great Thanksgiving table. Soon we will gather again, soon we will share our stories, and soon we will celebrate with the one to whom he lift our ultimate thanks. Soon and very soon.
Comments
Post a Comment