Happy Thanksgiving (Canadians harvest sooner)!

Thursday was a bad day. My Mom never raised her eyes, never focused, never reacted. She was gone. The nurses said on days when the barometric pressure drops, there's often an eerie calm hanging over the home - and indeed, it was unusually quiet inside and pouring rain outside. But I wasn't convinced until I visited for breakfast on Friday, having watched the sun's first rays greet Cochrane's hills, glowing with golden leaves. This was going to be a better day.

My mother looked up into my face and I got a huge smile and an "Ooooh!" which I like to believe was recognition, but was probably Mom being her happy self enjoying the company of someone who looked familiar. Whose voice made her feel at home, but she didn't know why. Or maybe she knows "This is someone I love," or even "Kim's here. About stinkin' time!" But because I can't be sure, I speak to her as though she's getting everything I say but can't respond, imprisoned inside her head - although that would be an even worse situation, and one I can't bear considering.

At first I thought my timing of this trip during Thanksgiving was ironic. But as the days passed and I got to spend time with my wonderful mother (and sister Diane, who drives nearly two hours return to visit her every Tuesday, and my brother Terence, who visits on Sundays), I was acutely aware of being thankful for every smile she shared, and every time she laughed out loud. I was thankful for the privilege of feeding her, after all the meals she has fed me. I was even thankful for being present on a bad day, so I could truly appreciate the good ones.

So by the time my brother Jarrett and his family arrived from Vancouver Island, I was ready to celebrate Thanksgiving, which we did at Diane's with a great meal. Dad and I arrived early so he could enjoy some of the festivities as well, but he didn't stay for dinner. He has a standing date with his wife. And for that I'm very, very thankful.