Give Thanks

Remember when people used to sit around the table, eating dinner with their folks and talking about everything that happened during the day? Me either.

Mealtimes for me were hurried affairs, usually consumed somewhere between practice and homework, right before bedtime. Mom cooked. We cleaned. And everybody ate in silence. Still, for a few minutes everyday, we were together.

It’s getting harder and harder to accomplish that. With a son in college and an active teenage daughter, meeting to share a meal seems almost impossible, except, of course, for Thanksgiving. Somehow, we all manage to come together, reconnecting in a way that reminds me how precious little time we have on this earth. I find I miss the sounds of childish laughter that once filled the house. Even the dirty laundry strewn on the floor means a place is lived in and loved.

So, when I stop to consider what I’m thankful for this holiday season, I think of my family. Their love and support has carried me through the many ups and downs of my writing journey. This Thanksgiving, I’ll remember to tell them so.