Thanksgiving · Family member · Heartfelt · about a minute
First Thanksgiving Without Dad: A Toast (1 Minute)
A grown son giving the toast at the first Thanksgiving since his father died, after his mother handed him his dad's carving knife that morning and asked him to carve.
Given by Shay, carving for the first time. 152 words. The names are made up.
The toast
Mom handed me Dad's carving knife this morning, so I get to say something first.
Every Thanksgiving, Dad sharpened that knife on the back step with an old gray stone. You could hear it from upstairs, that scrape, back and forth, for about twenty minutes. That was how we knew the day had started. Then he'd carve at the table, very slowly, and explain every cut like we'd paid for a class.
This morning I sat on the back step and tried it myself. I don't think I did it right. So the turkey is going to come off in some interesting shapes, and I'd ask you to be kind about it.
We all feel the gap at this table today. But all of you are here, and the knife is here, and this bird is getting carved one way or another.
Raise your glass. To Dad, and to the back step.
Why it works: The knife and the sound of it being sharpened carry the grief, so he never has to describe it. He admits he's bad at carving, which gives the table a laugh, and the turn back to the room is one honest sentence.
Make it yours
Borrow the shape, not the lines. Put your own people, your own year and your own detail in each spot, or answer a few questions and get a first draft built from them.