Here's is something I really want to share with all of you. You may remember that at the end of McCall's Quilt Design Star Contest, I said I was going to close down this blog. One of the reasons I gave was my frustration at receiving no comments; I still acknowledge the problem lies with this particular blog format. Several of you, dedicated readers that you are (and bless you for that!), encouraged me to continue. Some said they read this blog first thing in the morning while having their coffee or tea. What a charming picture that gave me - friends blowing on steaming cups, wrapped in warm robes, hunched over a computer screen, reading Quilting Tales! Others claimed to enjoy my writing or my topics.
It was Esther, my dear sister-in-law, who pointed out the benefit of writing to me. She said that what I learn about quilting, painting, life through writing about it is worth the slight inconvenience of writing and/or lack of feedback. Talk about getting right to the heart of the matter (Esther has an uncanny ability of cutting through the chaff to get to the kernel inside)! She's right, and here I am, still.
So what does this have to do with Thanksgiving? After one of my recent entries about this holiday, Esther responded with a comment (and she writes one now for almost every entry) that sums up everything I was trying to say. She gave me permission to share it with you:
When I prepare for Thanksgiving, I clean and sort items in my dining room -- many from my mother. I find myself talking to her and even listening as she reminds me about removing all the eyes from the potatoes to keep the mashed potatoes that pure white color. The silver was a gift from my parents to Dave and me over a number of Christmases. As I clean I think of the years that have gone by. All my wonderful memories around the holiday. I guess that's one of the reasons Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday -- particularly when I gather my family around me. Yes, I am very thankful and grateful that I've had so many wonderful people in my life. Thanks for being you.
How's that for a heartfelt expression of this particular holiday. I choke up every time I read that, and I've read it often. I know exactly what she means when she talks about hearing her mother's voice in her head; it's a gift we are sometimes given after the death of a parent - her or his voice still with us years later. Now, every Thanksgiving I will think of what Esther has said about memories. I will see her as she moves around her home, and I will cherish this memory of a woman, so dear to me, who is so much more than a sister-in-law.
We should all jot down a similar expression of Thanksgiving's special nature to share with our families. What a gift Esther has given me - another memory and another reason to love Thanksgiving.