Every Christmas Eve, mom sets the table.
Even when the house is quiet.
Even when she knows not everyone will come home.
She still wipes the table twice, just like she used to.
She still places the plates carefully, leaving space for everyone.
Old habits do not disappear. They stay, quietly, with love.
When we were younger, Christmas felt loud.
There were footsteps running through the house, voices calling from every room, laughter mixing with the smell of warm food.
Mom moved fast back then. She complained she was tired, but her eyes were always smiling.
Now Christmas feels different.
The house is the same, but life has changed.
Children grow up. They move away. They get busy.
Some promise to come home but cancel at the last minute.
Some cannot come at all.
Mom understands.
She never says anything.
Still, she cooks your favorite dish.
Still, she sets the table.
She places your seat where it has always been,
as if you might walk in at any moment.
Christmas is not about decorations for her.
It is about presence.
It is about the feeling that her family is still close, even if only in her heart.
You might think she has gotten used to it.
But she has not.
She has only learned how to miss quietly.
She remembers the Christmas mornings when you woke up early,
the way you sat at the table impatiently,
the way you laughed with a full mouth,
the way you never noticed how hard she worked to make everything feel warm.
Back then, you thought Christmas happened by magic.
Now you know it was her.
So if you are reading this and you are far from home,
if this Christmas feels busy or inconvenient,
remember this.
Somewhere, your mom might still be setting the table.
Not because she expects something,
but because loving you has always been part of who she is.
You do not have to bring gifts.
You do not have to stay long.
Sometimes, a call is enough.
Sometimes, just saying “I’m thinking of you” is already a gift.
Because one day, the table may still be there,
but she might not be the one setting it anymore.
This Christmas, if you can, go home.
If you cannot, call her.
Say her name.
Let her know she is not setting the table alone.