My sister and I used to alternate hosting the Thanksgiving feast. We shared the same habit of asking guests to say one thing they were thankful for. On occasions when she was the host I’d say, “I’m thankful that I didn’t have to cook the dinner.” That always got a laugh, but I wouldn’t say the same thing now. My sister, my husband, and too many friends are missing. It’s difficult to feel very thankful. It’s even harder these days when we’re haunted by the suffering of relatives and strangers on both sides of the war in the Middle East.

Yet, what about the people who are with us? The first holiday after my husband died our grieving son told me, “I’m glad you’re still here.” I sai’SO am  I.” But when I remember that moment I find myself putting the emphasis on a single word: HERE. Being physically present doesn’t always mean being present with our mind and heart. I’m easily distracted by trivial details, as well as the inner undercurrent of “What if…?” (My husband were still here, my best friend wasn’t gone, etc.)

IN ThorntonWilder’s pognant play “OUR TOWN, the heroine dies but is given a chance to relive one day of her life. She chooses her 12thbirthday, a time when her parents and brither were still wit  her. Reaching out to her mother Emily is shoicked to see her too busy with her chores to pay attention to her daughter. When the same thing happens with her father Emily cries out, ”It all goes so fast…why didn’t we really look at one another?”

This Thanksgiving I will be a host again.  After any social evening I frequently feel as though I hadn’t been there. This year I’ill try to be aware of the sound of my friends’voices, the expressions on their faces, he look of pain or joy in their eyes – and to carry this within me through lonely winters.

Giving thanks isn’t limited to a special time, of course, That evening I’llL say my daily Gratitude Prayer, giving thanks for the major gifts in my life – and the smaller  blessings that too often slip by unnoticed.

A meanngful Holiday to all.