Recently my dad has been sorting through old videos, editing them on iMovie.

The videos are amazing. They're also bittersweet.

So many loved ones are gone--beloved grandparents, great aunts and uncles. We miss them all.

In the "Thanksgiving 1999" edition, my Poppa Jack, who passed away 15 months ago, smiles, and sinks his teeth into a turkey leg while my grandmother looks on admiringly. My other grandfather, Poppa Murray looks exactly as I remember him--part curmudgeon, part dapper. He died in 2001. There's also Aunt Flo and Aunt Annette, Sam and Evelyn Karpel, Uncle Judd and Poppa George.

In some ways, it's nice to revisit times when the gang was all here (and healthy) when you don't have to concentrate so hard to hear someone's voice. But it's hard because when you do hear Aunt Flo's throaty chuckle, you want to hear it again. And then one more time.

This year we're having Thanksgiving in our new (very old) house. We're a small group today. We're going to be eating on my Great-grandmother's china. As I write this, Grandma Bea is basting the turkey. My mom and dad loaned us their carving set and pale green tablecloth embroidered with white flowers. We'll be eating the turkey and accompaniments with the silverware my grandparents bought us when Scott and I got married six years ago. We'll cut the pumpkin pie with the cake knife Scott's parents gave us to use for sweet occasions.

My mom says these occasions are more important than ever.

She says it doesn't matter if we're a large group or small one. What matters is that we are together. It's time for us to create new, rich memories--to add to our treasure chest of old ones.