I Also Miss

The Schloss-Blog is here this Thanksgiving to tell ya'  that he misses his family.

Y'know, the family I can't Thanksgiving dinner with.

All of it. All of them.

My grandson is the light of my life. He's perky, a sports maven (just ask him about the Bears), aggressive yet chill, smart and observant. So proud of him. Excelling in first grade.

When this is over, I hope to get to see him more than four times a year.

My daughter has found a good man. They make each other happy. That's all I need to know.

Except that I'd like to see them more than four times a year when this is over.

My cousins, and their kids, are precious. We hardly get to see each other as it is, scattered all over the country as we are, and we had to pass on two occasions to get together this year.

Yet, we have a bond that we all adhere to - any occasion, any wedding, any bar mitzvah, any bat mitzvah, any funeral - we all saddle up and go.

Not this year. We had to shed tears silently, thousands of miles apart, when one cousin passed away and we were all unable to attend the funeral.

And we had to skip the party that never happened when another cousin's grandson celebrated his bar mitzvah.

As a family, we live for those opportunities to express joy with each or offer a shoulder for each other.

And at the one funeral none of us were able to attend, I missed the opportunity to visit my parents' gravesites, remind them how much I miss and love them and drop a few pebbles at the foot of their sites.

In tribute. In a message to let 'em know I was there, we were there.

Every Christmas, we visit my wife's family in Texas, no matter what. For 30 years. 

Not this year.

I miss them. They are loving, caring, generous and warm.

It would've been difficult enough to see my mother-in-law, in the home where she's living now, what with the restrictions they have on visitors.

And my father-in-law, alone in a big house in Missouri, needs our help and we want to give our support. 

Difficult to do this year.

The trip to Texas was always important enough to me that even though I had a basketball game to cover on the 26th virtually every year, I went to Texas for Christmas anyway and took a 5:30 a.m. flight home the day after.

I'm no hero. Just did what I had to do to see the people so important to me. It was, always is worth it.

I wanted to include this as part of the "things I miss" blog I posted four days ago, but that would've been the longest blog post in history.

To everyone struggling with a family visit this Thanksgiving that they couldn't do, my heart goes out to you. This Christmas too.

And with that, good night, Mrs. Calabash. Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.

More on my Radio Free Phoenix show on Sunday night.

Have a good Thanksgiving, no matter how much smaller than usual it has to be. Wish it could be with everyone.

But not this year.

Hey, cousin, hands off that drumstick. It's always mine.

But I'll end this the same way I've ended every phone call I've ever had with my brother since we both reached adulthood (according to our mother, never) and started living hundreds if not thousands of  miles apart ever since: So long, bro. Love you.