I often say that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It’s the time I am most likely to gather as many of our kids as possible around our table. It’s the time that I become obsessed with creating a menu with things that are new each year. Of course, there are items that repeat year after year. There is always turkey and there is always the hot cranberry casserole that has been a favorite for decades, prompting the annual discussion of whether it should really be a side dish or a dessert.

But, other than that, I change it up. New sides, every year a different stuffing, re-imagined vegetable combos and, my favorite, lots of varied desserts. I have been accused of making close to one dessert per person and, well, there may be some truth to that.

And while I do love Thanksgiving, I also know that this pre-holiday frenzy (and it is a frenzy) is not just about serving lovely meals from Thursday through the weekend, but it is about knowing that December will follow November and that Thanksgiving is just days away from December 1.

December 1 is the anniversary of my brother’s death. And while it is nearly 25 years ago, I feel the ache always and, especially, at this time of year.

The year that he turned 40, I sent my brother a teasing message every month, giving him the countdown of how many more months he had in his 30’s. And, in much the same way, for more than a year after he died, the first of the month marked a countdown, a drumbeat, a renewed heartache.

I have gotten past the rawness of the grief, I no longer find the first of every month to be a reminder and have not for some time. But December 1 stays with me and I busy my hands and my mind throughout November, trying to hold off that date and its memories.

The last conversation we had was two days before the accident that took his life. We talked about Thanksgiving, a holiday we’d always shared in the past but hadn’t this year because my family had relocated and the geography got in the way. We made plans to see each other in two weeks and his final words to me were the same ones he always said, “Give kisses all around.”

As I plan and organize, cook and bake, my thoughts are fully occupied. But, in those quiet moments, I think about life and loss. I think about the December 1 phone call that changed my life forever. And I think about how grateful I am to have had a sibling who was my best friend, my staunchest supporter, my listening post and my eternal ally. While our time together was cut far too short, I know that I will feel his presence always and will ever hold him close in my full heart.