As I look back at our Thanksgiving gathering of family and friends, I think of the silent Norman Rockwell paintings which capture colorful, bright smiles of folks gathered around food-laden tables. With the stroke of a brush, he made space for the quirky faces of children as they reached for soft rolls and tantalizing pieces of pie. He invited us to imagine shouts of “more please!” and mom’s response of “I think you’ve had enough.”
In our home, the wee ones alternated squeals of delight with cast down eyes as they sought to avoid doing something they didn’t wish. Actions of raised forks lowering to meet plates of food combined with other actions and the sounds of endless chatter. I looked around our food-laden table surrounded by love and laughter and adorned with the eclectic collection of silver pieces and china patterns accumulated over the years. As each piece reminded me of other times and places, I silently expressed gratitude.
The Thanksgiving food leftovers are nearly gone. Special plates, glasses, and silverware are in storage. Memories are left in their wake. The Christmas season is becoming evident. A sparkle here and there is evident. The tree stands yet unadorned, the center stage in our living room. We go about our preparations and reflect on previous Christmas’.
Memories at this time of year seem obligatory. They serve a purpose. They can remind us we were loved and are loved. They remind us that we have lived. Yet, allowing them their place is one of the great challenges in life.
Memories of our friends and family say to us, “I was here. I had an impact on your life. And when we meet again, you will remember our connection. In the meantime, my love for you will live in your heart in acknowledgment that our time together was real.”
As we move through the coming weeks of preparations for holiday gatherings, let us not forget the past and what it offers our present and future. Raise a glass to toast all that has been. All that is. And all that will be.
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