Thanksgiving has just past and it was bitter sweet. I am thankful and I miss my mom. She passed during the summer. This was my first Thanksgiving without her.
Whatever the reason, my brother and sisters were not together. My brother is out of the country, one sister was with her niece, the other sister stayed home and made dinner for my sons. I was with my in-laws.
They told their stories, carried on their tradition, as it should be. Being new to the family, I didn't have a clue to the significance of any of them. What was familiar and heart warming was the coming together of generations.
My brother and sisters still have two more holidays to overcome our sadness. Being together is still hard. It reminds us of all the holidays, birthdays, Sunday dinners, bar-b-cues, Easters we've shared over the years. It reminds us that an anchor, the boundaries of parents, have been removed.
Who are we now? What relationship will we have with each other? Can we find the joy in the sadness? These questions are best answered by the stories we will share and the ones we will remember. As long as we tell the stories, mom continues to live and influence our lives.
