Thanksgiving is one week from today. Loyal readers will know this is the one time of year that my whole family gathers together, the one time I was guaranteed to see Eric. Until this year.
This year he will not be there to make the boys virgin cocktails that will bubble up out of sippy cups.
This year he will not be there to take my early risers out into the backyard before everyone else is awake.
This year he will not be there to take our family picture.
This year he will not be there for our annual trip to Wal-Mart.
This year he will not be there sipping wine in the hot tub at 3pm.
This year he will not insist that we stay up to watch a movie and then fall asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace as we watch.
This year he will not make a crazy dessert combination like goldfish crackers and melted milky ways bars.
This year he will not be there to whine about the poor extent of my parents’ wireless network.
This year he will not be there to lose to my husband at golf.
This year we will all have a little trouble being thankful, despite the other good things in our lives.
But this year he will be there in all of our hearts and minds.
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