At the end of an office meeting a few days before Thanksgiving, my colleague, who had suddenly found himself overseeing a whirlwind of organizational change, offered his thoughts. He remarked that he was grateful for having made it through those challenges. And mostly that he was grateful for all of us.
Later that day I reflected on how many people have, encouraged me, supported me, helped me, and made my life better. I thought of the times that I had told, or should have told, the people I care about how much I am grateful for them. I thought:
Next time I will
Stay longer.
Ask about the war.
Be patient.
Apologize for that time I got mad when we missed the exit.
Go talk to him instead of hiding in my room.
Ask him how he’s doing.
Bring an entire pizza.
Go for more walks.
Ask more questions.
Find out about my ancestors.
Find out about the last time he saw his brothers.
Have a bowl of ice cream.
Forgive.
Remember.
Tell him that I’m glad he was my Dad.
Susan Goldberg is a lawyer and writer who lives in Rockford. Her dad, Tony, was the son of Lithuanian immigrants. He skipped two grades in elementary school and could multiply two three-digit numbers in his head. The first in his family to graduate from high school, Tony graduated from the University of Illinois on the G.I. Bill after serving in the Philippines in World War II.
