As Adrienne, Christina and I walked through the crowded Union Square holiday market, I cracked a terrible joke. We’d just had brunch at Javelina. Maybe it was the margarita.
Remembering the money I spent last Christmas on gifts for Dad at that same market, I asked “think I can get my money back?” before mumbling “gallows humor.”
It probably wasn’t funny to my friends and if anything, I might have made them uncomfortable. Fortunately the subject was changed for us as the hordes of Christmas shoppers pushed us through the market like leaves floating in a strong current.
Briefly separated, I was left thinking about how different this Christmas will be without my sweet Dad.
Last Christmas, I went to one of Dad’s doctor’s appointments with him and my mother. He seemed to be doing well and proudly posed in front of a hospital sign featuring his terrific specialist. Dad’s breathing was pretty good and he was able to walk longer distances than he had in recent history. I was thrilled.
