It's been a long time since I wrote you a letter. Not that it's been long since I talked to you -- seems like I do that every day.
Of all of the days/times of the year, Thanksgiving is the hardest. It always has been. You loved Thanksgiving so much and that love definitely rubbed off on me. I want to take care of everybody. Every year I go searching through your old rusted recipe box. And every year I find your Thanksgiving menu. I know it by heart. But every year I sit and stare at it for an hour and hear your voice and hear the sounds of you feverishly cooking. And every year I wish you were here so you could sit back, relax and watch me do all of the things you always did. I miss you so much.
The boys are scattered all over the US. Ric is too busy to visit. Bobby can't. Stephen can't afford to. Then, of course, there's Dad. I can't bring him here. And the idea of going there terrifies me. There's very little I wouldn't give to have any of them close to me.
And not to belittle our relationship with Doug's family. They are awesome. And we are very much part of that family. We love them and they love us. It's very much like Grandma and Grandpa Bell. But that can't and shouldn't replace us -you and Dad and Bobby and Del and Stephen and me.
I look at my own little family and I know that we have the solid type of family relationship that I had growing up. I know that my boys have that in their hearts and souls. But we're at that really scary part -- the part where they're growing up and will have their own lives apart from us before too long.
Mom, I wish you were here. I wish you could sit with me and we could talk about everything -- what it feels like to have a child on the brink of adulthood, how to juggle two full time jobs and do them both justice, the best way to make pumpkin pie....
Sometimes my need to have "my family" close by is almost palpable. Sometimes it threatens to immobilize me. I wake up not really sure how to proceed. But then I hear Doug's voice or Chris' or Jesse's and I know where I am and what I'm doing.
Our Thanksgiving will be awesome this year. I'm doing the whole "mom to the world" thing -- just like you liked to do. I'm organizing a Thanksgiving potluck for my office that will make 100 or so people smile. We're having pie night with some good friends of ours (I love making pies but always use Pillsbury ready made crusts!). Then on the Sunday before Thanksgiving, we're having two families that are dear friends of ours over for a pre-Thanksgiving dinner -- turkey, dressing and all the fixings....almost the exact same menu as yours that's in the recipe box. And then, on Thanksgiving day, we'll be with our Knaphus family. (And that is a very, very good thing. It is very much like our Thanksgivings).
It's been a really hard year in many different ways. There have been so many days/nights that I've wished you were here. But every time I start missing you too much, I hear Chris' five-year-old voice as we're driving through the Abilene countryside "Mom, look! There's your mom! She's an angel!". And I know you're always with us.
Happy Thanksgiving, mama. I love you.
Your daughter always,
