It's Thanksgiving Day, my favorite holiday of the year. I love Thanksgiving because of three things: family, football, and food all day long! I get to see cousins, aunts, uncles, my grandmother, my two sisters my nieces and nephews. I get to watch the Cowboys play and I get to eat until I pass out. My favorite food on the table is the cornbread dressing that has been a special family recipe forever.
Yes, it is a day to celebrate and be thankful for all of our blessings on this Thanksgiving Day in 1990, but this time it was a little different. Actually, it was a lot different. Everywhere I went, everything I did, I kept asking myself, "Is this the last time I will do this?" "Is this the last time I see them?" "Is this the last time I will come here or do that?" It wasn't death that I feared. I felt like I was saying goodbye to everyone I knew and loved for the very last time. I tried not to let it become obvious. I'm sure they were thinking the same thing and tried not to let it be obvious either. But everyone knew the risks. Only God knew the outcome.
I remember the day before, alone in my room, praying to God. I told God that I'm ready to die if that was His will. I only asked Him for one thing. I wanted to know if this was the last time I would see my family again. I asked for a sign. I asked for Him to overcome me with joy at the end of my prayer if I would survive the war, or grief if I would not. When my prayer was over, I waited for the answer. I waited for grief or joy. I felt nothing. My feelings were as neutral as they could be. So what's the answer? I took the silence as Him saying, "It's not for you to know your death, but to know who you live for."
"For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."