It's no secret that Thanksgiving will be a little different for our family this year. Though some of us will be in various parts of Texas, some with friends, and some with family - all of us will have an empty seat at our Thanksgiving table. I've noticed that this year I'm incredibly more aware of the small talk conversation starter, "So, do you have big plans for Thanksgiving?" and how such an ordinary question can cause such deep pain. It may be pain reflective of broken families relationships, unavailable finances, work schedules, class schedules, or in our case (as well as many others), the loss of a family member.
Our Thanksgiving celebration varied every couple of years. My earliest memories of Thanksgiving took place at my Grandma Woodson's house. The kids' table was in the eat-in kitchen, positioned carefully yet incredibly anxiously next to the giant China hutch. The adults spread out between the dining table and the formal living room. I thought it was so cool that we had our own table and never once realized that we were actually expediting generational segregation.
Later memories involved going to the Hart's old house out on Cal-Cam Road and feeling like it took FOREVER to drive there (even though it was only 15 minutes away). We had tables spread out in the living room, dining room, kitchen, and sometimes outside. I'm not sure of the exact number but we had somewhere around 500-600 people there. Okay okay maybe it was like 30 but I swear we could give 'The Feeding of the 5000' a run for its money. After stuffing our faces with a winning combination of Thanksgiving and Cajun food, we played full contact BINGO (tackling allowed) and sometime threw in some corn hole or bean bag baseball. I will never forget how honored I was when I was asked to pray shortly after beginning seminary and being referred to as "The Reverend."
We would also take a victory lap with Dad's side of the family afterwards which for me meant two incredible dessert spreads.
As I got older, and especially once I left for TCU, I began to understand just how precious these memories were.
This year, I long for those Thanksgivings of yesterday. I miss hearing my Grandma's boisterous laugh even over 30 other voices. I loved Regan and Emily being our BINGO callers. I loved messing with Philip for eating like 19 plates of food and still wanting more. I loved listening to Michael's stories and trying to be as cool as Erica. I loved that cramped living room that was so full of love.
This year, each of us will have an empty seat at our table and it's one no other could ever fill. Even in our rooms that are bursting with love and laughter, there will be heartache, loneliness, and a deafening silence. Our Thanksgiving, from wherever we may be celebrating, will never be the same and the only thing I can think of that may bring us a sliver of comfort is knowing that though we have an empty seat, we have an open table. We have a table that reminds us that even in our weakest, darkest moments, we have a God who promises to endure life with us. It may be hard to see the table through darkness, but God shines a light leading us lovingly to the table. As we make our way there, we're reminded of ALL those whom God has created and loved and in turn, we meet them at the table. Our empty seats have been pulled up to the table and given the ultimate Thanksgiving meals. The table sustains and nourishes us, giving us the hope to face another day.
I cannot wait until that day when I will gather at the table with Christ and share another 19 plate Thanksgiving meal with Philip. Save me a seat Philip, we will see each other again one day and on that day, we will worship Christ together with love and laughter.
Thanks be to God for those saints who have gone before us and who have found their place at the everlasting, open table.
I love you Baby Cousin, Happy Thanksgiving.
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