We are sitting around the dining room table, gathered together for Thanksgiving.
It’s unusual for all of us to be together and we are reveling in the comfort and company of family.
One of the boys is telling a story and I’m laughing so hard tears are streaming down my cheeks.
Suddenly I hear my mother quietly say, “You did good” (a phrase she used all the time.)
I have often wished she could see the boys now, grown and handsome, intelligent, engaging and funny.
But when I heard her voice I know she does see them.
And my heart sings.