Man of the House

I don't have words to express my emotions about yesterday. Anxiety. An ounce of dread. In the twelve months since last Thanksgiving, life has changed dramatically. I wasn't sure I was prepared. I wasn't sure any of us would know how to handle ourselves and each other.

We always knew as we grew older that traditions would change. We would make new ones, old ones would dissolve, as we grew out of what we were and into who we are. This year, some of us are taller. Some of us have more lines on our faces, new ink on our skin, new experiences and more wisdom than we did on Thanksgiving of 2006.

Half of the Vaughan family is halfway across the country. The part of the family that balances out the male:female ratio. The beautiful limb of the family tree that will eventually carry on the family name. And I miss them. I miss Phil and his sarcasm, his teasing and tickling (although it's been years since he's tickled me enough to make me fall to the ground). I miss conversations with Donna, especially since my trip to their territory almost four months ago. Austin's voice has changed and I have to look up at him when he stands beside me. Carter is still learning who he is... and my heart resonates with his. It will be almost 2008 before we see them again. And I felt their absense yesterday.

We have a new addition. Somehow, the transition was seamless. A beautiful blonde who has stolen my handsome uncle's heart... she slipped in, quiet and unassuming. And before I knew it, she was sitting beside me on the floor while Olivia played with our hair. It is a special thing to be invited to a Vaughan holiday. We would have missed her had she not come. She's a keeper.

Dad had to work. There was a two hour window filled with picture taking, instructions, sandwiches, and Ray Charles. Later, I will realize that was what was missing yesterday. The piano was not played... and when Dad left, part of the holiday left with him.

But it was you who saved the day. I remember the years when you had plans of your own; "places to be", reasons to sneak out as soon as the food was eaten. You had your own time, and we loved you dearly. But back then, we had no idea who you were. The "cool" uncle? Some time between November of 2006 and yesterday, something changed. And I got to Severn Way and you were already there.

I watched you cook, scold the dog, love on Grandmom. I watched you hug a beautiful young woman when she walked in the door... I saw the look in your eyes when you talked to her. And then you sat down at the head of the table. In Granddad's seat. A sacred seat that, even on a normal day, few would dare to sit in. The man you are is no longer a stranger to me. There were moments when you sounded like Phil, moved like Dad, looked like Kat... but in reality, you were simply the man of the house. Filling the role of uncle, brother, boyfriend, youngest son... the only son who could really make it home for the holidays.

You had big shoes to fill yesterday.

I don't know what I would have done without you. When it seems like there are so few good men left in this world, I only have to think of you.

I left, thinking about next Thanksgiving, knowing that things would continue to change. We will continue to get older, wider, taller, wiser, hardened and softened and seasoned by life. Relationships will develop, our family will get larger.

And so, despite that longing in my heart for snow flurries, having to dodge arrows and bullets shot from slingshots, and the sound of the piano, played by two brothers...

I am thankful for you.