As all our friends and family and coworkers and neighbors get ready to celebrate Thanksgiving, my heart is so heavy for the empty space at a table that should have been filled by Max. It's been almost five months since that terrible day and he and his family, and Mama T are in my head and in my heart every day, but this week especially.
I've said it before, many times, but I can't stop saying it. I am beyond thankful, every minute, that I was the one who got to take both my two children home that day.
I can't help but put myself in Max's mother's shoes and think of how hard it would be to not have one of my girls at the table on Thursday. To try and sit with my family at dinner, bow my head and will myself to be thankful, but know that in my heart, there's a part of me that is empty, and sad, and maybe even angry or bitter.
I don't know if I would be able to do it. I don't know how they will.