December 25 2017
I awoke that Monday morning with the knowledge that my family, meaning the Smithville Paffords, were sleeping close by and would in a matter of minutes gather together to begin our holiday celebration. As anticipated, we were exchanging gifts and enjoying one another's company a short time later. As the celebration progressed, Beth and I began preparations for Christmas Breakfast. Every year, once our immediate family has exchanged presents, we break our nighttime fast around a big and ample spread of scrambled eggs, biscuits, bacon and sausage, and hashbrown casserole. Along with the food, we share conversations and predictions of how the rest of the day will unfold as we journey out beyond our home to drop in on extended family.
Serving Christmas Breakfast has been a tradition for us from the very first years we have been a family. At this point, I feel I need to back-track a moment because I have left out a singular and unique fellow participant to our observance of this holiday. A decade ago, in 2007, we invited a guest to share in our meal. We would come to embrace this guest as a member of the Smithville Paffords. The guest I am referring to was Mr. Jerry L. Winfrey, a retired Dekalb County School Teacher.
Over the next decade, Christmas Breakfast would never be the same as our holiday tradition unfolded and we added another space around our table for our neighbor and beloved curmudgeon, Jerry L. Winfrey. these thoughts came to me today when I learned from Beth that Jerry had died at home in the past few hours.
Our family continues to grow with new dear ones we welcome at our table year round. But our hearts will be a little sad next holiday. W e will hold a spot and a plate for Mr. Jerry.
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