A quiet sacramental act of love for thanksgiving...

So the weather predictions for Thanksgiving Eve - Wednesday, November 26 - range from 4-8 inches of snow to 8-14 inches. Hmmmm... we in the Berkshires can handle the first in our sleep, but if you get over six inches at night we might have to pull the plug on our concert. We have rehearsal tonight so we'll caucus and take the pulse of the band. Who knows what will really happen? Last year, time and again, the apocalypse was forecast but only modest snow actually fell most of the time. But then there was a massive blizzard on the last day of October two years ago, so... who knows?

At any rate, we're ready for whatever even while hoping the show goes on. In anticipation of Old Man Winter, we cleaned off the deck this afternoon and cleared out the garage, too. (We have to park the truck in there so that the snow plow can liberate us should things turn bad.) While moving things to the store room, I came across a box of tea cups my sister Karen packed up for me last May. I went down to visit with my dad - and pick up his old deacon's bench from the parsonage in Stamford, CT days - and because he was closing up his house to move in with Laura, some remembrances were divided up among my siblings.

Truth be told, I couldn't face opening that box back then, so it sat in my garage for six months. But now, after about six weeks since my father's death, the time felt right. So, with a quiet joy I didn't expect, I unwrapped about 20 tiny tea cups that my mother had collected over the years. They are all stunning and I was speechless for a bit. I don't think I'd ever seen this little treasures. Each one is hand-painted with a delicate touch that I never knew my Mom appreciated. I can only say that I am so grateful that Karen made the effort to carefully select these cups for me - and each of us. It is clear this was a sacramental act of love for us.  She couldn't couldn't change my father's health. She couldn't fix things. But she could share small sings of the beauty and love of our family. And she did. And while this brings tears to my eyes right now, I am so very grateful, too.

I know that one of the reasons I am so eager to do this year's show is that so many of this year's songs are tender-hearted. I will be singing Tom Waits' "Hold On" - a song I shared at my dad's memorial service - and it feels right and holy to do at this time of the year. So I will keep you posted re: what's happening tomorrow night. In the mean time:  Hold on and have a blessed Thanksgiving.