Thanksgiving · Family member · Heartfelt · about a minute
Thanksgiving Toast for Someone Missing (Heartfelt, 1 Minute)
A son toasting at the first Thanksgiving after his father died, asked by his mother to take over the toast his dad gave every year.
Given by Anders, giving the toast his father always gave. 155 words. The names are made up.
The toast
For thirty-one years, Dad gave the toast at this dinner, and it was always the same length. He'd stand up, lift his glass, say "Well, we made it," and sit down. That was the whole speech. We used to time him. His record was four seconds.
This is the first year without him. Mom asked me to do it, and I've spent a week trying to figure out what to add. I didn't come up with much. He always said it like it was a small surprise, like he'd counted heads on the way in and was relieved to get the right number.
We're one short this year. But Abbott drove up from the coast with the kids, my sister is here with the baby he'd have held all through dinner, and the rest of us found our seats.
So I'm going to do it his way. Raise your glass, everyone. Well, we made it.
Why it works: It doesn't try to sum up a life. It keeps one habit, the father's four-word toast, and hands it back to the table at the end, so the grief and the warmth arrive in the same line.
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.