THE SMALL THINGS

365 Days of Thanksliving – Day 181

Sometimes I have a proclivity to take the small things for granted. Do you ever do that too? Today, one of those “small things” reminded me that no small thing is really a small thing at all. Maybe read that last sentence again. Gosh, I’m preaching here… Sorry, but not sorry. Heavens to Betsy, Jason.

As I do most weeks, I talked with my folks this afternoon. Sometimes I’m the one who calls, other times my dad is the one who dials first. I’d just gone downstairs to the kitchen to start fixing some lunch, and my bacon was almost done—yes, I had bacon for lunch: five glorious pieces of Schmidt’s Meat Market smoked pork belly. I coupled that with a couple of big scoops of PJ’s homemade chicken salad (made with homemade Keto mayo, sea-salted cashews, a few craisins, and celery for the crunch). Quite nummy. Now that I have your mouth watering, back to Dad.

Anywho, I’d made up my chix-salad and had it resting in the fridge to come together while the air fryer was crisping up my smoked pork belly. The timer had about two minutes left, and that’s when Dad rang.

“Howdy, Dad. Can I call you back in about half an hour? Dani and I are about to sit down and eat lunch.” Dad knows the importance of conversation around the dinner table, so he gladly obliged.

Well, about an hour later—because I got preoccupied with other things—I called Dad back. And for about 45 minutes, we had a wonderful conversation. Some of it was pertinent family stuff about Mom’s health, but we also chatted about his Uncle Alfred, whom I wrote about on Memorial Day.

Little did my dad know that I had just spoken and written about Alfred that night. Not knowing this, my dad sent me a letter this week with the original article from the Ringstad newspaper about Alfred’s passing and the toll it took on his family.

Oh… moment of confession here. I was off on the date Alfred passed away. I had thought he was shot on November 11, the final day of WWI. I was wrong; he died a few days earlier. I thought it would be good to correct the record. Squirrel!

Anyway… Dad and I talked about this, that, and the other thing: my sister coming to town (which is huge, as we don’t get to see her often); plans for Mom and Dad’s future; family memories; and of course, his grandkids. Then, Dad put Mom on the phone, which was good. It's hard to have a conversation, though, because her memory is almost mush these days.

As I chatted with my folks, I was reminded again that our days on this earth are short, and that someday I won’t be able to just pick up the phone and call them. They’re now at the same age their parents were when they closed their eyes for the last time. While my dad is in great health, my mom: not so much. She might have more years ahead, or she might not. And even though my dad is sharp as a tack, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for anyone.

Those phone calls, those drop-ins, those dinners and lunches with family—sometimes they might seem like small things we take for granted. But in reality, they're huge things, aren’t they? That small thing of talking with Mom and Dad—today, that’s what I’m thanking the good Lord for.

How about you? What are you thankful for today?