Occasionally my birthday falls on Thanksgiving. As I was growing up, in my kid brain anyway, it was always a bit overshadowed by the holiday, or muted in a sense, but truthfully birthdays weren't that big of a deal in our home. We weren't neglected, it's just that birthdays back then didn't come with as much fanfare as they seemingly do now--and ours came with less than that.
With our son, Corban that was an entirely different story. There was just something in me that wanted him to feel the fanfare--to be celebrated, and to-- well, --to have a great time with friends. To this day his friends tell us Corban had the best birthday parties.
We loved making memories together. Truth is, Corban loved celebrating any holiday-- birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Easter and especially Thanksgiving. I cannot emphasize enough how much Corban Scott Goad loved celebrations, and food, and definitely family from near and far. It didn't matter that he only saw them now and then. Family was family. I should mention that family included church family. Oh the joy on that guy's face when family would visit or when we'd travel to visit them. He loved the ribbing and poking that came with family--he was truly thankful for time spent. I remember thinking once that he seemed to like visiting with family and the travel associated with that, way more than I did as a young person. And I envied it. I envied him on so many levels. But those are thoughts for another day.
Corban occasionally traveled with his mother to visit family in the Pacific Northwest. For whatever reason, (reasons I regret greatly now), I never went with them. Though it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to do things with his mom and with me separately and I think he appreciated the one-on-one attention. Regret hits different in the absence of those we desperately miss and long for. Corban loved the Pacific Northwest. I had been to Oregon and Washington before but mostly for work--I saw what Seattle had to offer, but I had not experienced the Cascades or the San Juan Islands. I cannot emphasize enough how much he loved the beauty of the area and the family there, and I remember the messages he'd send telling me how I was "missing out" and how I could never imagine the amazing food he was enjoying or how much of it he ate, and how much he enjoyed Leavenworth (not the penitentiary in Kansas)--but a Bavarian village nestled by the Cascades.
This year we received an invitation to visit the family we dearly love once again in the PNW. Truthfully, the thought of getting away for Thanksgiving was thrilling. I was gleeful almost. Giddy at the thought of traveling instead of the alternative. Being home without Corban again on Thanksgiving and on my birthday would be a holiday double-whammy to the gut. We quickly arranged for a family friend to care for our pets, and booked flights to see some of our favorite people in one of Corban's favorite places!
I couldn't wait. As a dad, I wanted to see the things Corban saw. I wanted to walk where he walked. I wanted to experience just a glimpse of what my son had experienced and the bonus was getting to do that with special family.
In essence, this was probably the most relaxing trip I've ever taken. It was cold in the Cascades and chilly in Anacortes but the trip was warm--it was a snuggly, cozy family-type of warm. Good people. Good times. Lots of laughs and lots of coffee.
We spent time at a Bavarian lodge planning and reminiscing by the fireplace talking briefly with people from all over the world-- in one sitting we chatted with people from Germany, Russia, India, and the Middle East-- I enjoyed watching families do family things. We took walks where Corban walked, by shops where Corban shopped and ate at two different German restaurants. One where Corban had also eaten with cousins. I soaked it all in. Words could not describe the beauty and majesty of the mountains or the riverbanks. The grandness of it all is truly unspeakable---it takes your breath away, in a way that could only be the handiwork of an awesome and ingenious Creator. We also did some things Corban never experienced, like visiting a reindeer farm. I think he would have loved that.
And even in the warmth, and happiness and coziness of it all--I would sometimes recognize a "present emptiness" within me at times just as unspeakable, just as wide as the Cascades, that also snatched my breath. I sometimes think of it as an ever-present absence if there is such a thing as a present absence.
One night we were all sitting together talking and laughing over pie and warm drinks, when we were asked, "Tell us about Corban from the beginning. Tell us his full story." The truth is we LOVE talking about Corban. I will always talk about him. I often pray that people will always ask us about him-- That it will never get weird because we need to talk about him. Only others who have walked this journey understand the desperate need to talk about him.
At the same time, there's a level of pain that I think will just never go away. I was so grateful that we were invited to talk about Corban and we did-- though I have to say it was harder for me this time. I felt myself drift for a minute. I can't describe how your mind floats from one thought to the next or how you learn to sit in the discomfort brought on by grief.
I was thrilled to walk where Corban walked and to shop where he shopped, and to eat where he ate, and even to sleep where he slept. But he was not there. His absence was somehow magnified, I think, because it's a place he wanted to share with me, and as a dad, I longed to be where he once was. More than once I found myself admiring creation all around me imagining the classic look he'd get on his face when he was beyond impressed and he'd look at me to see if I was as impressed as he was, --like, ... "See what'd I tell you?!"
One night I couldn't sleep as I tossed and turned under what I believe to be the
coziest comforter I've ever slept under--a German "daunendecke" (down comforter or duvet designed for one person). ("Yes, Corban, I believe you now.")---Even so, as usual, I couldn't sleep and I was scrolling through my phone mindlessly---and I imagined him sleeping there in this very spot--safe and cozy.
And it hit me: I do long to go where Corban has gone. For example, I want to go back to New York, I want to visit Central Park and to the 9/11 Memorial. Perhaps someday I can get back to the cabin in Pennsylvania that Corban loved though I think that one will be tougher. I want to do all those things, and I think I will.
But for Corban, on his behalf, as a dad, I've decided I want to also go places Corban would have loved to visit and to do some things Corban would have done, if he had only been afforded more time on this side.
I am thankful for my wife, and our family near and far, I am thankful for the kindest coziest, most hospitable getaway ever, I am thankful for the testimony of creation and of course for our Creator, and I am beyond grateful for every minute I had with Corban while he was here with us. I cannot wait to see him again someday, and I look forward to his classic "impressed look" as he shows me around and shows it off, eyes widened, eyebrow raised with a quick nod toward things I've yet to witness... "See Dad...I've got some things to show you..."
I appreciate whoever out there reads my thoughts, I want you to know, I am thankful for you too. Please feel free to share.
-CorbansDad
To learn more about me, you can go to ChesterG.com --To learn more about Corban or to support First Responders, simply go to servestrong.us
*(note that is dot .us and not dot .com)