14
Morgan
Thanksgiving had never been a holiday the Wright family cared about.
None of us were particularly good cooks. We didn’t feel the need to sit around a table full of catered food to say what we were thankful for. And, really, the only good thing about the day was football.
I was pretty sure most of that mentality was due to the fact that our father had worked every Thanksgiving that I could remember. Not just upstairs in his home office where he could come down and cheer on the Cowboys when he needed a break. Oh no, he’d actually go into the office from sun up until sundown. He’d leave all five of us to fend for ourselves. Without Jensen, I wasn’t sure we would have even eaten on Thanksgiving, let alone had a real Thanksgiving dinner.
But that had all changed. Since my brother
