One Table, Many Stories

The People We Bring to the Table

Every holiday table holds more than just food. It holds memories, stories, and the people we’ve loved — the ones still with us, and the ones we miss. Some of them are sitting right there at the table, grabbing a dinner roll, laughing a little too loudly, or asking who’s in charge of the gravy. But others… others are the quiet presence we feel just as deeply. They’re not sitting in a chair, but somehow, they’re still here.

This is what I’m reflecting on this year: the people we bring into our hearts — past, present, and future. And, it’s not always the big, dramatic "holiday moment" you’d expect. It’s quieter than that. More human than that. More real than that.

The People We Miss

I’m starting here because, honestly, it’s where my heart lands most often this time of year. There’s something about the holidays that makes you feel the empty chairs a little more. I think about my mom and how she somehow made holidays magical every single year, not to mention her delicious home-cooked meals and the fantastic pies baked with love.

My sister, Kelly, was a huge presence—beautiful, vibrant, and always shining like the bright light she was. Her infectious laughter could fill a room, and I’m grateful that her daughter, Taylor, has carried that same gift. 

My brother Jimmy, tall, dark, and handsome with a heart of gold, always had my back and never let life get boring. He often shared kitchen duties and was almost as good a cook as Mom. 

And my grandmother—oh, my grandmother—with her sharp wit and those beautiful, sparkly green eyes. She was our family's strong, somewhat controlling matriarch, and she was my idol and the reason I learned to be assertive with grace.

They’re not at the table anymore, but they’re still here. I see them in the way I’ve learned to "make do" when money’s tight. I see them in the way I’ve stopped caring about the presents and started focusing on presence—mine, yours, and the love behind it all. I see them in me and in all the other faces at the table. They’re not gone. Not really. Their spirit does carry on.

Although some of our traditions have changed over the years, the people we bring to the table—to our hearts and to our minds—remain the same. They are the comforting presences that saw us through life’s twists and turns, cheering us on and standing beside us. They are still here, shaping us in ways both seen and unseen.

The People Who Show Up (Even If It’s Messy)

Not everyone’s the "perfect family holiday" type—and most often, I’m glad for it. Some people show up messy, complicated, and carrying a suitcase full of drama. And yet, they’re there. It's the love, the care, the belonging to something bigger, more substantial, and even more impressive than the sum of all its parts. 

Some of the most memorable holidays aren’t picture-perfect. I’ve learned that sometimes, the people who "show up" are the ones you choose to bring with you when you leave the stress and pressure behind. And sometimes they aren't. 

I've had to pack up, and leave a family holiday, which wasn't easy…but necessary. Our family has had to reflect and adapt our expectations several times through the years, and that's okay. I couldn't be more proud of how this family has evolved through the years.

And that’s the thing about showing up. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being present. It’s about being willing to say, “Yeah, I’m here. Messy, tired, and maybe a little frazzled, but I’m here because it's where I want to be.” And that’s more than enough.

The People We Welcome for the First Time

One of my favorite things is when the table grows. Not just with extra chairs but with new faces. The new brother-in-law who is still figuring out if he’s allowed to take the last biscuit. The friend without their family this year, who’s learning what it’s like to be "adopted" for a day. The baby who’s too little to know what’s happening but will someday flip through the photos and see that they were surrounded by love.

These new faces remind us that love expands. It’s not a limited resource. You’d think the heart would run out of room, but it never does. It just stretches. And that’s the real magic of the holiday table. There’s always room for one more.

The People We’re Becoming

Here’s the part I didn’t see coming. I’m not just holding space for the people I’ve loved and the ones I’m welcoming in. I’m also holding space for me. The me I am and the me I continue to become.

For our family, the role of "head of the table" is shared. It’s no longer about one person carrying all the weight or controlling the whole show. These days, we pass the torch around. Sometimes it’s my daughter, sometimes my son, sometimes my partner, and sometimes it’s one of our cousins or anyone who's up for it. It’s whoever is ready to plan the meal, create the energy, direct the show, and make the magic happen. We’re all learning to let go of the pressure to "get it right" and, instead,  create it together. It’s less about perfection and more about shared presence.

You know what’s wild to think about? Sometimes, we’re so busy looking back or looking around at who’s "not here" that we forget we are here. We’re the ones holding it all together. We’re the love, the laughter, and sometimes the glue that keeps it from falling apart.

Take Care of Yourself

So, this holiday season, I’m holding space for all of it. The sweet and the bitter. The people I’ve loved, the ones I’m welcoming in, and the one I’m still becoming.

If you’re feeling the heaviness of it all—the grief, the love, the ache, and the joy—I’m right there with you. Let it all be part of the story. Let it be okay to laugh and cry on the same day. That’s the gift, isn’t it? The permission to feel it all and not have to "fix" it.

Wherever you are, whoever’s at your table (or in your heart), I hope you feel it - the love, the stories, and the quiet, undeniable presence of every person who’s shaped you. And I hope you’ll notice that you’re part of it too. You’re not a bystander in your own life. You’re the love. You’re the magic. You’re the miracle.

Love is ALL there is,

Diana