Thanksgiving is always the time we think of home. Last week a man in his 70’s said to me, “I remember the house I grew up in, every room, every drawer, every smell. In my mind I can still go there even though the house was torn down over 50 years ago.”
I thought about what he said and I realized I can remember my childhood home the same way. Once, years ago I was walking through a second hand store and I saw a chair just like my grandmother had. When I sat down I ran my fingers over the grooves in the handle and remembered when my fingers fit down in the carved wood. From there I remembered my grandmother and what her life must have been like when she homesteaded and lived in a dugout.
I like to think that kind of memory isn’t just regular memory, but a kind of loving memory. Sometimes it isn’t just the things we remember, but the way we felt. Maybe it’s just a smell or home cooking or a feeling you always get when you hug that certain someone, but the memory is imprinted on your heart, not your mind.
When I began the Harmony Series I wanted to write about people who would settle into the reader’s heart like old friends. I wanted to create a town, not that I’ve ever been to, but a place that’s always been in my mind. A place where people care about one another. I think I took pieces of my world and pieces of my dreams. A writer’s mind is a patchwork quilt held together of what life is and what they dream life to be.
So this holiday season take the time to look at all the blessings you have, not just today but through the years. Walk through your childhood home. Have a seat in grandma’s chair. Open a few drawers of memories.
Always remember: Thanksgiving is an active verb, not a noun.
I would love to hear your early memory blessings.
The winner of the drawing will receive a copy of my first national bestseller THE TENDER TEXAN, always a favorite book of mine.