it’s the little things

Hi Dad,

(You’ll have to forgive me if this is a little clunky at first, its hard to know how to talk to you this way.) You know, I sure do miss you. Like, its really kicking my ass. Christmas is quickly approaching, cookies and baked goods are EVERYWHERE. Totally your time of year. The fudge—fathers famous fudge—you would have been mixing up and rolling out a batch today, I am quite sure of it.

You know, sometimes I wonder who I would be or what I would look like if I did not inherit your sweet tooth. Walking through Lunds the other day there was this whole display of Pearson’s Nut Goodies, your favorite, and I wished I could have bought the box and brought it to you this year. I always did have a hard time figuring out what you wanted for Christmas. Lord knows you had everything you needed, and so much more.

I imagine we would have busted one out of the box right there and then, and split it, taken that first nibble and enjoyed. You, with that look in your eye and a hint of a smile peeking out—pure bliss, would have looked back across at me, and recognized me in you and you in me. Damn that sweet tooth.

A box of nut goodies, telling you I got a solid A in my first college class, and a hug that won’t quit—that is what I had in mind for you this year. I’ll share your gift with Des instead; we’ll raise a glass and put another log on the fire, and say a toast of love and life to you.


5 thoughts on “it’s the little things

  1. what a bittersweet entry…
    I’m thinking of you this holiday season, though ones you have loved so much can not be near, I hope above hope that you find warmth, love, joy, laughter, hugs, and beauty near you whenever you need it.

    take care sweet rachel.

  2. Thinkking about my Dad a lot too this holiday season…for me the wounds are not so fresh. However I find myself wiping away my tears as I read this cuz Dick would be making fudge too right now haven’t thought about that in a while so thanks and have a great Christmas and New Years.

  3. Seven years today since my Auntie died. She was a complicated woman who was often depressed, but could be hugely generous. And when her sense of humour peeped out, like a shy child, she could be adorable.
    The first Christmas is always difficult – and now you’re allowing your Dad to be here, sharing your mutual sweet tooth with the rest of us. Blessings.

  4. Oh Jenny, I miss your dad, his deep raspy love filled voice.
    I love you, and am so glad to call you sister.
    Tess, Elissa, Bella: just so grateful. Truly.

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