Today we celebrated Thanksgiving at my parents house.
It's same as every year, the same house I was brought home to after I was born... the house I've known all my life. Tall ceilings, large dark wood molding around the doorways and room after room... the Holidays wouldn't feel so warm if it were anywhere else.
Over the years the house has grown smaller, but the noises and the people have grown louder and larger. I try to remember to be present and enjoy the time together.
Today my Grandpa walked up to me and thanked me for coming to the hospital in the middle of the night a few weeks ago when he had a heart attack. I know it took a lot for him to come up to me and say that. Not because the words were hard to say, but because I know he's still not feeling his best, and when we're altogether it's very overwhelming. It had to have been on his mind.
And looking back, I wish I could have just thought for a beat before responding to him right away. I know I said something like I know you would have done the same for me and I'd do it again... I don't think I would have changed what I said, but in the manner in which I said it.
I said it in a way like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big deal- for all of us. We thought he was dying. I wish I would have given him a hug instead of staying seated like I did.
I don't want to be that person who feels she needs to fill the gaps of silence.
I want to take my time.
I want to soak in the message and response in a way that leaves no regrets.