This is my dad. My dad is a man of few words and he is certainly not a writer, so imagine my surprise a few days before Thanksgiving when this arrived in my inbox:
_________________________________________________________________________
My dear little Gore and family

It is really a real moment to understand the gravity of your first Thanksgiving dinner in your home. I know it must be a very stressful event but it will be a great success, trust me. This conjures up many memories of your mother’s and my past days and good times. Please try to relax and enjoy the moment. Tami, you and I are very much alike, the free spirit lives in us. You have a good man that loves you, your babies are a dream to dream of, and will make you proud for years to come. I look forward to this Thanksgiving, it is truly a Thanksgiving.
Love, Your Dad
_________________________________________________________________________

I love my dad dearly and reading this brief and rare message from him was incredibly validating and drew me closer to him. I spend so much time with my mom and mostly hear stories of their lives and opinions through the filter of her voice. To hear his voice and see evidence of his pride warmed me and warmed Bradley. His faith in me and my family reaffirms the beliefs that Bradley and I have in our choices and lifestyle. It’s amazing what a few words like this can do for a girl. Rereading his letter brings tears to my eyes. Thanks, Dad. I love you too.

**I am a ‘Little Gore’ and forever will be one in my family. When I was a little girl, I had a hard time with my r’s and l’s – I couldn’t say them. Then, to make things more colorful, each night at dinner I would tell a story that began with, “YestOday when I was a wittle gore…” then I would proceed to tell a mundane or fantastic story, real or made up, of something that had happened to me. It was treasured by my parents and this tradition annoyed my brothers. This continued for a number of years until one night, at the dinner table, I began my story, “yestoday when I was a wittle gore…” and I didn’t get to finish. One of my brothers (who will remain nameless) interrupted with, “You went poop.” I think a discussion occurred that pointed out that I do this every night and it is soooo annoying. I vowed never to do it again, and with that went the stories. I grew up a little bit after that and caught myself whenever I began to tell one of my stories. Regardless, to this day, to my Daddy, and forever into infinity, I will always be his Little Gore and I love it.


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Thanksgiving Wishes

FRESH /POSTS

Gigi Said

  • Topless Tapas 2012-11-03 18:44:52-

    Tami was leaving to go out with her friend and the kids begged to go with her. I said, "you don't want to go with mom, she is going to the Tapas bar and we are going to stay here and play games."

    Gigi stiffened, "That's weird", she said as she blushed. I processed fast and realized the problem. "TAPAS bar. It means 'small plate', not TOPLESS bar!"

Jude Said

  • Nicknames 2013-01-04 21:30:33-

    The checker at the store asked our always conversational little boy what his name was. He replied "Jude" then added "but sometimes they call me pumpkin brown". LOL.

    And they are right. We call him that after the folksong that we sing sometimes.

A long time ago…