Sitting on the second floor deck, wrapped in my jacket, gloves, scarf and hat, I sipped my hot chocolate. The cloudy sky made the night seem exceptionally dark. There was a slight breeze and I inched closer to the gas heater. The noise of the traffic below was muffled by my thoughts.
I could see the lights of the island, miles away. They seemed particularly bright tonight. Maybe it was the briskness from the chill in the air or because I was focusing intently on that city across the water. The city where my daughter lived.
A warmth crawled up my spine and my heart was overcome with thanksgiving. Although hours away, those lights appeared within reach. I could stretch forth my arm and touch them, if I closed one eye.
Rochelle is a remarkable cook. I knew she would be preparing the turkey dinner for our family tomorrow. Twenty-eight years ago, our family Thanksgiving dinners took on a whole new meaning to the celebration. Twenty-eight years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, Rochelle was born. This mom (and now Grand-mom) was told she would NEVER, EVER have a baby. This little baby was not supposed to live. I have it in writing, signed by a specialist which stated: There is not one chance, in one million, that this couple will ever have a child. Read more on this story here.
Yet, here I sat - looking into my little girl's home, across the ocean, preparing Thanksgiving dinner. I Never....Ever.....gave up hope. I Never....Ever....stopped trying until I found the answer. For which we are all THANKFUL.
Tomorrow I will sit at her table, hold her hand and thank God for the gift of this child. The child who was never supposed to happen.
I could see the lights of the island, miles away. They seemed particularly bright tonight. Maybe it was the briskness from the chill in the air or because I was focusing intently on that city across the water. The city where my daughter lived.
A warmth crawled up my spine and my heart was overcome with thanksgiving. Although hours away, those lights appeared within reach. I could stretch forth my arm and touch them, if I closed one eye.
Rochelle is a remarkable cook. I knew she would be preparing the turkey dinner for our family tomorrow. Twenty-eight years ago, our family Thanksgiving dinners took on a whole new meaning to the celebration. Twenty-eight years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, Rochelle was born. This mom (and now Grand-mom) was told she would NEVER, EVER have a baby. This little baby was not supposed to live. I have it in writing, signed by a specialist which stated: There is not one chance, in one million, that this couple will ever have a child. Read more on this story here.
Yet, here I sat - looking into my little girl's home, across the ocean, preparing Thanksgiving dinner. I Never....Ever.....gave up hope. I Never....Ever....stopped trying until I found the answer. For which we are all THANKFUL.
Tomorrow I will sit at her table, hold her hand and thank God for the gift of this child. The child who was never supposed to happen.
No comments :
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.