It was very nice of you to invite me over for Thanksgiving dinner.

It’s our pleasure. You’re a great neighbor and one of our favorite people.

You folks have been wonderful to me since my Bill died. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.

Well, our lives would be a lot poorer without you too.

And you’re my “next-door grandma.”

“How come you’re crying, Next-door Grandma?”

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that it’s my first Thanksgiving without Bill, and you’re all being so sweet.

Don’t you worry about it for a second. We consider you part of our family, and if you can’t cry with your own family, where can you?

I don’t want to spoil your lovely dinner. It just hits me sometimes that I’ll never see him again.

You will see him again, Next-door Grandma! Next-door Grandpa is with Heavenly Father—I know he is!

Oh, Mandy, I wish I knew that the way you do. But it makes me feel peaceful somehow to hear you say it. So you just go right on telling me, OK?

OK.