on this Thanksgiving day, as usual i am filled to brim with gratitude for God's love, his grace and mercy, my family, but mostly for my mother and her love. she comes to my house every year for his holiday. it is the one time that i actually wake up, even though it is my home, i always have to remind myself of time. the aroma of my house takes me away to my childhood, the sounds of her "working" in the kitchen. my husband and i always smile, we don't even have to say it after all these years. what i am saying is... when my mom is up everyone is up... she will bang, drop, exclaim out loud when she drops something. there is no quiet, even in her footsteps as she moves from room to room, still amazed by this, for such a small women. i am not only grateful for her labor of love, but the new memories that feel old and for her constant.