Of all the cherished Thanksgiving memories and traditions, the strongest one for me is Mom’s famous cranberry bread. Or, more precisely, according to the actual recipe, “Grandmother’s Famous Cranberry Bread.” Except, that it’s neither.

The dog-eared, decades-old family recipe, faithfully pulled out every Thanksgiving, is actually written in the haltingly perfect cursive of a child learning to write–my careful copying from a library picture book, a recipe I begged Mom to make one Thanksgiving. It was so fabulous it instantly became a family tradition, a project for Mom and me to share every year. Mom would faithfully mix the ingredients, while I tediously chopped nuts and cranberries in the handheld chopper that left my red welts on my palms for many hours afterwards. Thankfully, the food processor now makes quick work of the matter. Others may enjoy cleaning bowls of cookie dough, however, my childhood joy was licking the spoons after cranberry bread baking.

The bread was Mom’s gift giving specialty every holiday season, every family occasion…and it’s the one recipe I make faithfully now every year and also gift to show my greatest affection to the recipient given that I know the decades of love that go into it.

So, as I take a moment to enjoy the quiet before the Thanksgiving cooking marathon, I honor Mom with a first bite of cranberry bread on her prized china, a set my grandmother sent from Germany–piece by piece over many years–until we finally had a full service that Mom could proudly display every holiday. My wish for this holiday season is that we cherish those we love who are with us…as well as those who are still close in spirit…and strive to share and create new memories for future generations to one day reflect on and cherish all the same.

Peace, love, and grace to all of you this Thanksgiving.