Thank you for raising this topic, Denise. I so appreciate each poster’s contribution!

My husband and I have young adult and adult children that are far-flung this holiday, have travelled ourselves out for the moment, and we don’t have the funds to sponsor their trips home, so are figuring out what to do with ourselves. In doing so, we are each asking ourselves and each other what our spirits need and what each of our bodies can most comfortably manage.

We’ve invited one friend to come stay with us, and just yesterday a young couple asked if they could join us. We are thrilled, and being very clear with each of our prospective guests that what WE can offer may vary from our own wishes of what we’d like to offer, and may vary quite significantly from what Martha Stewart can and would, as beautiful and scrumptious as that would be.
One definite yes so far, and one “we’ll get back to you,” which I am interpreting as, “we were not expecting to have to share space with a person unknown to us and we have our own sensory limitations,” etc. I doubt that couple would be hesitating because I limited the scope of the offering.

We’ve ordered a portion of a turkey and will ask anyone confirming to bring whatever says “Thanksgiving!” to their hearts and palates that they would otherwise miss.

Our hearts are warmed at the thought of each of these potential guests joining us. We can also manage extra leftovers if no one shows.

I want to echo Helen’s memory of polishing silver. I did that every year as a child, too! And being asked to take over responsibility for a piece of the meal each year, until I’d learned how to do all of the pieces that my mother orchestrated in what said “Thanksgiving!” to her… What a lovely memory. Thank you, Helen! !

I am thinking of those in my family who might not be alive next year and wishing I could transport myself in order to be with each of them and to tell them how incredibly important they are to me and how grateful I am for their presence(s) in my life. I need to put those messages into writing for now and get them to them until I can get to them in person.

Something (I believe it was Colleen) I read somewhere on Mayo Connect has stuck with me. I believe she talked about cancer requiring us, at times, to reframe hope. The scope of what we can be optimistic about, and we can form a plan around (as Helen so beautifully reminds us just as often as I need to hear it) may get bigger or smaller as we travel along this path. That has been brought home to me in so many ways since reading it. I’m grateful for the idea. Sometimes the focus of my hope is full-bore health and being able to do everything I could or hoped I could. At other times, it’s being able to sustain my involvement in certain activities or to contribute financially to my family, or be up for travel even with limitations. At times, it has been for some sun coming through my window or a contact with a treasured friend as I recovered from surgery. This last month it was hoping my letter reached a friend before he died. It did.

All of you who read these words feel so important to me, as well. I am hoping that each of you find a manageable scope for your hopes for this holiday and for your health and lives.

With profound gratitude for this community,

Gynosaur