Bob Hope and Me

Thanksgiving Day has come and gone from this year's calender of events but as the shoppping, cooking and storing the food of the feast is done, I've begun a bit of a sentimental journey. And I, along with the ever famous and beloved Bob Hope, must sing, "Thanks for the memories".
I remember back, a long time ago, when my Grandma and Grandpa Shipp stepped up and let us live in their house; my Dad and Richard, and me. Those bittersweet years were made so much brighter by the warmth of caring grandparents.
Today, our traditional Thanksgiving dinner looks very much like the ones that were prepared every year at Grandma's.
When I grew up and moved away from San Francisco, I took notice of how my childhood memories seemed so dark. It wasn't because they were bad memories but it was because of the fog! I still to this day find comfort in quiet lights and overcast weather.
At the approach of Christmas, as we deck the halls and trim the tree, I am taken back to the shimmering, silver streaming icecicles individually placed on the tree, that Grandma called, "rain" in honor of where we lived and what would have meaning for us.
Now it's time for us to trim our own tree again. This year the tree is small. With no little ones of our own here and with our limited space, downsizing seems in order, but this year, I think I'll bring home a sprinkle of "rain" to put on our tree in honor of my family and how my early years were blessed by my Grandma and Grandpa.
Bob Hope lived an entire century, bringing fun and laughter to thousands, helping them lift their spirits and see the good and the humor and the "hope" in life and I want to be more like him. I believe that much of our happiness in life comes from gratitude, and so I, like Bob, sing again, "Thanks for the memories".