It’s Thanksgiving week and I am preparing to welcome home my boys for a few days. As any college mom (or any mom) knows, we are filled with gratitude when our children are home, safe, happy, and healthy.

My children know these last three are my daily prayer for them; I am grateful for each day they are safe, happy, and healthy. So this week my heart is with moms who aren’t feeling this blessing right now.

Every talk I give includes a quick background on my family: how competitive we are and the fundamental (sometimes dysfunctional) role sports played in our childhood. I always share how there are 12 cousins on my mom’s side (the Vandeweghes), and all 12 of us played a sport in college. Nothing remarkable, just the genes we were born with. It was an inspiring family to grow up in (Olympians, NBA all-stars, professional athletes), but a high-pressure family as well (winning was expected, not celebrated).

Last week during this part of my presentation, I had to pause; one of the 12 cousins recently passed away. Two weekends ago, the cousins (and other family members, including the next generation of second-cousins) gathered to say goodbye. There was no gathering where the words, “Funerals are for the living,” rang more true. While there were tears and hugs and broken hearts, there was also so much love and gratitude for our family, my cousins.

While Thanksgiving is a time of gratitude, not everyone feels this as deeply as I do as my boys journey home. Some moms are missing their children and I will be holding these moms in my heart, especially my Aunt. And I will remain grateful for the inspiring and dysfunctional family to which I belong.