Last Thanksgiving, when all was stripped away, my mom
brought us together and she was thankful. Even when cancer was ravaging her athletic body last fall she had us all over for dinner. We even took family photos.

And she showed gratitude at the effort we all made to be together. We were enough!

No complaints.

No ‘I wish’…

Just gratitude for the moment.

And talk about being cold!
(She was SOOO skinny!)

This year for Thanksgiving, I wanted to be somewhere else. I wanted someone to make my mom’s potato romanoff and someone else to shove their hands into a cold dead bird. Perhaps, someone could have organized this brood of boys into a drama troop like mom did in 2013.

Dreams.

Wishful thinking.

Long ago memories.

This year, it was my turn.

No running.

No excuses.

My opportunity to create memories and show gratitude.

I stuffed and cooked a magnificent Turkey. I turned mom’s special potatoes into a soupy disgusting mess. We had gravy, olives and apple pie. My boys played a song on the piano showing their new skills to their proud Papa. We shed a few tears with dad and we were together.

Remembering mom.

Wishing she was here.

Creating memories.

Full of gratitude for all that I can do!

Grateful for those who reached into my grief during another ‘first’ since my mom’s death.

Grateful for every person who has truly shown empathy to my family.

Grateful to be alive with my boys!