“Mimi,” my very favorite boomer-blogging friend, asked in a recent post… “Are You Ready for Thanksgiving?”

After a kind-of startled moment, I realized that I am not completely ready for Thanksgiving this year. It is not because I haven’t ordered my fresh turkey or carefully removed my favorite recipes from their plastic folders. It is not because my silver is not polished (OK, I don’t have silver to polish, and if I did, I probably wouldn’t polish it anyway). It is not because my tablecloths are at the dry cleaner’s (OK again. I don’t use fine linens. My tablecloths are, gasp, polyester/cotton). And it is not for lack of guests.

It is so much bigger. So much harder. So beyond anything I could ever have imagined.

My mother-in-law is not here this year. Flo is the one who loved the holidays. She began to plan her holiday meals in July. I inherited this gift from her. I begin to toss around holiday appetizers and soups and exotic vegetable dishes in my mind right after Labor Day. (One thing I never did, though, was dare venture into desserts. That was Flo’s domain. Period. Even last year, at 88, Flo came to my home on Christmas Eve toting bags and boxes of homemade apple pies, blueberry pies, mince pies, trays of cookies… she remembered each person’s favorite dessert, and that was her greatest gift.)

Flo is not here this year. My heart began to pound as I read Mimi’s words. My memories came swirling around me… and I remembered the first Thanksgiving that Barry and I had at our home. I must tell you here that Flo did not mince words. She told you how she felt when she felt it. I was sitting in her kitchen, the one with the bright yellow wallpaper. She loved the color yellow. It was late October. Audrey was 1 1/2. I said, with the fear of God in my throat, “Mom, Barry and I would like to have Thanksgiving at our house this year…” I didn’t get to finish my sentence.

Flo turned to me. “What?” she said slowly. “You don’t have the service to put on a big meal like that.” By service, she meant the good holiday plates, serving dishes, utensils, cutlery, etc.

I swallowed hard. “But my brother and his wife are flying in. And the kids are excited to help with the dinner. And…”

One word. “Fine,” Flo said. The unstated words were something like… “I dare you.”

Well, we did it that year. Barry and me and the kids. The turkey. The stuffing (Flo’s recipe, of course). All the trimmings. Everything but the desserts. Flo wouldn’t let me touch them with a 10-foot spatula. I know Flo wasn’t all that happy about the turn of events… I mean, holiday dinners were her very domain.

But you know what she did do? I had been admiring a set of Christmas dishes at a local department store, and when she showed up at my door with her bags and boxes of desserts, she had another big bag with her. In it was a service for 12 of those Christmas dishes. With the serving platters and bowls to match. Her words were simple and to the point… “You need good service that matches.”

Well, that service has grown from 12 to 32… and Flo herself added most of the pieces as the years rolled along. The Christmas Tree motif has four different manufacturers, but that matters least to me. What truly matters is that Flo reluctantly released Thanksgiving (and then Christmas Eve) to me… but, as always, with a gift. Now I understand that the true gift was not the “service,” but the trust in me and her son to create memorable and beautiful family traditions at our home. And since that Thanksgiving all those decades ago, the very first thing I do to ring in the season is unpack pieces of my service and lovingly arrange them on my kitchen hutch… and now I tell my grandchildren the story of the Christmas Tree dishes.

Notice the salt and pepper shakers with sterling silver tops on the top shelf.

My heart aches as I think of the holidays without our beloved Flo… but I kept everything that she ever cherished in her kitchens. One of her most cherished belongings was a cutlery service for 24, stainless steel with a little rose wrapped around each piece. It wasn’t expensive, but it was complete. She loved that. Now I have it, and I will love watching my family use her most special pieces for all holiday meals to come. I have her mother’s crystal salt and pepper shakers… the ones with the sterling silver tops. Ahhhh… I do have some silver to polish. And you know what? I will. I have her aprons and pot holders and cooling racks. I have her vintage measuring spoons and cups. I even have her handwritten booklet of recipes… including her coveted cookie recipes.

I will be thinking of Flo each moment of these holidays. And I know with certainty that she will be watching every move that I make in my (yellow!) kitchen. She will be tapping me on the shoulder as I bake her cookies from her recipes. She will be whispering that I need “more buttah.” “More salt.” “More sugah.” She’ll be saying, “What is it with you young girls and your substitutes?” And this year, I will be using the buttah and salt and sugah, and yes, even lard. I will do it for Flo with the greatest sense of honor and love that one woman can have for another.

So… Mimi, you got me thinking. You got me crying. But now, I understand that the love and honor and joy I have for Flo will be the greatest ingredients of my holiday meals and celebrations. Thank you for the great big smile that I have right now! I truly mean it…

Now I’m ready.