by Becky Graham

Created on: November 16, 2009

Amongst the chaos surrounding me, I take a quiet mental snapshots. There is no feasible way to catch these moments on film, for they are feelings. There are feelings of contentment, feelings of pride; love abounding.

The marker-stained dining room table is covered with a linen table cloth. Today, there are no paper plates or plastic ware. The name brand candles that were reserved for a special occasion are burning, giving off a subtle glow that promotes serenity and warmth. Outside, the leaves have turned red, orange, yellow, and brown. There is a chill in the air that makes it brisk. The ground crunches with each footstep.

The smells from the kitchen are heavenly. Friends and family have shown up early for dinner offering to help with the preparations. The women go to the kitchen to work the lumps out of the mashed potatoes and gravy, while the men sit in the living room discussing football and hunting. Amazingly, everybody is satisfied with this arrangement today.

When Thanksgiving dinner is served, the prayer is said thanking God for the opportunity to simply be together. The overflowing dishes are passed from person to person without prompting. The children eat well since they have been "starved" all morning awaiting the feast. The men become quiet with the exception of a few grunts of satisfaction. The women taste a little of each thing, feeling appreciated for their labors of love on this day. Everyone is content and thankful.

The table is cleared, and leftovers portioned out. The men go back to watching football, with their tummies filled to the brim. The women grab coffee and gather around the dining room table once again. The children run wild throughout the house while the adults, men and women alike, pay them attention and accept their childish behaviors without criticism.

The rest of the day is spent trading recipes, playing Scrabble, and sharing memories of loved ones unable to join in the traditions this year. It's at this moment I can look at the gleeful faces of my family and friends and realize just how thankful I am. We all made it through another trying year, still in love, still in one piece, still willing to give of ourselves even through heartache and despair.

When the guest are leaving, there are tight lingering hugs, eye to eye conversations that don't need to be spoken, and maybe even a tear or two. My house becomes quiet and normal again. I glance at the plaque on my wall given to me by my best friend that says "Home Sweet Home" and I think to myself as I yawn; yes...yes, it truly is.

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