She’s been in heaven for over three years now, yet her mail continues to come, almost daily.

My mother’s favorite catalog came this morning and instead of grabbing my phone and making another call like I’ve done over the last forty-four months to places like insurance and credit card companies, open enrollment paperwork from Medicare and even a notice for her to serve jury duty, reiterating to each one that she’s gone and to remove her from their list, I believe I’m going to leave my phone right where it is and reminisce.

What do we have if we don’t have memories?

I know a little ‘sausage and cheese’ magazine interspersed with ads for winter jackets, sea salt caramel treats and even inspirational tiny tins filled with 4″ paper won’t bring my mom back but I do have fond memories of living over five hundred miles away as a young bride and receiving a package from her and my father, arriving about a week before Christmas that came several years in a row (and I know her order put them a little deeper in debt).  Yet it meant the world to me because as the wife of a full-time college student and mother of two little ones with no family nearby, it was the closest we were going to be for many years.

Thanksgiving will be here in a week and this is usually a special time for our family, especially when mom and dad lived here.  May I say I’d rather skip it this year and go right to Christmas? Would that be a bad thing to honestly share?

I struggle, as I’m sure my parent’s did back when I left NY for KY, with the thought of empty chairs around the table.  Another year that my daughter and her family are still so far away, one son is in Oregon (but will be here for Christmas), another son and his family will be outside Houston with his wife’s family.  Though the twins are grown and moved out, I’m thinking that free food will win in my favor so I know we’ll have at least two here.

Please don’t misunderstand me.  I am not complaining that my kids are grown and have their own families as well as their spouse’s family to enjoy the holidays with.  Once again, I am wrestling with memories. Memories that won’t happen: laughter around a table full of raucous kids, conversations about what we are thankful for, stories of past Thanksgivings with my sister and her family when they lived nearby and of course, eating pie together.  Lots of pie.

And yet, is it really about the food or the chairs or even who comes?  Perhaps a little because I don’t enjoy cooking THAT kind of meal as if it’s just another day.

Thanksgiving is a celebration. One day set aside to remember all that God has done, being thankful for one’s family or those whom we love or love us.  The meal is a labor of love to be shared!

But it’s not like we don’t ALWAYS invite more than just family.

We do.

In fact, the girl who came for the first time last year now lives with us!  And though she’ll be house sitting for friends that day, I know she’ll be coming and bringing her famous mashed potatoes!

I suppose I will do as I have for the last three years since mom’s passing:  pray, asking God to send those who have nowhere to go, offering a place to feel welcomed, loved and enjoy a great meal together.

And  we’ll make a memory.