11/27/2025
Tomorrow, someone will be missing at the gathering.
An empty seat will sit quietly at the table, holding a whole lifetime of love.
Tomorrow, a door won’t open for someone we’re still wishing would walk through it.
And someone will try their best to remake a recipe that will never taste the same without the hands that once helped make it.
Tomorrow, stories will rise like warm steam from holidays long gone,
because some of the people who made those memories aren’t here to make new ones.
Tomorrow, there will be laughs tangled with tears,
served up right beside the mashed potatoes and gravy.
There will be soft whispers of
“I wish they were here,”
and quiet moments where someone swallows a hurt that has no words.
Tomorrow, a phone will stay silent,
because the person we want to call can’t answer anymore.
Hearts will sit around tables , full plates, but heavy chairs,
with people who are hurting, remembering, missing.
There will be extra “I love you’s.”
Extra pictures taken.
And maybe a name said out loud that hasn’t been spoken in years,
because love never really leaves a room, it lingers.
Tomorrow, so many will balance grief with gratitude.
Holding thankfulness in one hand and heartbreak in the other.
And somewhere deep down, we all know…
there may be even more empty seats next year.
So tomorrow, hold your people close.
Say the things.
Take the picture.
Feel it all.
Because love is the reason we ache,
and love is the reason we keep going.
