I thought that this year would be the year that I would finally escape my mind (and depression) as it relates to the holidays. No such luck. Tonight I was chatting with Tanya, and as we were talking I realized that I missed Mom. (We were doing the stereotypical *squee! ZOMG* banter, and that’s when it hit me.)

BAM!

I just wanted Mom there, if only so I could lay my head in her lap and unload. My friends are the cream of the crop, and I would not give them up for anything, but there are times that you just want to have someone who loves you, warts and all, just pet your head. Much like the perfect mother does.

Which, in turn, made me think of the upcoming holidays –and how many empty plates (and chairs) will be there this year.

Mom and Dad are just two of those empty plates.
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There is the typical chatter (“MWAH! MWAH! How ARE you? Oh, you brought Uncle Chrissy’s dill dip? Excellent. Careful, don’t step on the kids.”)

As I (as we all) set down our potluck dish on the table, we notice those empty spaces. And then we all start to think, “Oh, that’s Uncle Chrissy’s dip. That’s Grandma Balko’s Sherry Cake. That is … “) And then? Then I realize something.

Even though Balko, or Chris, is no longer here with us physically, they are still here with us mentally.

I look at the table full of people, who are full of laughter, joy, love; and all I see are plates. Plates that are empty, and ghostly. Elijah like, in a sense.

But I also see that, through the laughter and joy, that there is loss. And pain. But the tears? They are full of joy, hope, loss, and longing.
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As we sit down for supper, our plates full before us, we bow our heads in thanks. And even though our ghosts don’t have an actual “voice”, they are heard, nonetheless.

Shannon: I am thankful for reconnecting with old friends. I am thankful for a family that won't go away, even if I might want some of them to … sometimes.

Aunt Terry: I am thankful for my family. And my dogs. And BBC-America. (Hey! The latter two make me appreciate, and love, the former. Somehow.)

Ronnie: Pfft. Let’s eat!
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As our family, as my family, eats we think of everything: the past, the future, and the present.

We think of the past, knowing that these holiday get-togethers do not hold a candle to what we remember. We also realize that, at some point, some of us must break away and create our own traditions. But mostly? We are happy. Happy in the here and now, surrounded by blood, and by love.
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“Hey, do y’all remember that story when … ?”

Paige: I am thankful for my family. I am thankful that Edgar came home last night. And that he came home today.

Megan: I am thankful for my family. For Corey. For my mom, and my sisters.

Josh: I am thankful for my child. I am thankful for myself, BECAUSE? I AM AWESOME!!! (After a few well placed kicks, he also adds … ) I am thankful for my family. (The ingrates. How can they not see that I am AWESOME?) (Ed. Note: Josh? You’re a pain in the ass, but I still like you. And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I will punch you in the junk.)

All: “Josh? Hush up, bless your heart …”
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As dinner winds down, our ghosts are felt. We’ve jokingly talked about them, but just in passing. But we’ve seen them.

We’ve seen them, and felt them; with our hearts, minds, and souls. If we lean in, real close-like, if we lean in, between bouts of laughter and remembrance, we can hear them whisper in our ears. We can hear them catching the last words of our sentences, just as we hear them commenting on those same phrases. Although I have no idea what they may have overheard, I can catch some of their final words as they fade into the autumn air.

And I think they are happy to still be included, at least via conversation and anecdotes. As long as we remember them, and laugh at with them.

Those empty plates? Even if they are stacked neatly away, they still fill up every corner.
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They all mean so much to me.

Matt: I am thankful for Erin. And my awesome bike. And my family.

Ronnie: Okay. FINE! I am thankful for family too. And my friends. And music. And talent, my own and others.

Me: I am thankful … for so, so much.

As we gather our jackets to leave, there is a moment where we smell the turning of the leaves. And each of us pauses, to just stop. And smell. And be. And embrace. In our own way.
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Jackets donned, we kiss, hug and say our farewells, and hear the generations saying …

 We are thankful.

And as that autumn air weakens, we take our goodbyes, knowing that we won’t see many of these people again for another year. However we DO know that there is still love to be had in this rag-tag crew. (Even if there is bickering.)
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Dad: Oh god, do you see this Katie? She didn’t use enough dill. That’s the secret of the dip – dill! GAH! And Bon Apetite! *sigh* Will they ever learn?

Mom: Chris? They? Your (our) family? They will be just fine. Now stop worrying about the dill, and just kiss me. Sheesh. Here. Have a drag off of this …

Dad: KATIE ELLEN!