In the hours before, my mom’s silhouette races by as she tidies the living room, dining room and kitchen. Towers of forgotten belongings balance precariously in her arms; one sneaker, a dog toy, spiral notebooks and half-empty water bottles looking for their rightful homes, end up in shared holding pens to be dealt with after the holiday

Simultaneously, delicious aromas float into those same spaces as if filling the void of the clutter. Traditional smells of chicken and potatoes are joined by incongruous scents of the pizza rolls and mini hot dogs my uncle requests every year.

5:00 flashes in bright green from the center of the oven, and as the hour arrives, so do all the members of our family. My dog lets out a warning bark, and the wag of his tail increases in velocity by almost 100 percent as they enter the house.

Drinks varying in color from amber to burgundy are held in the hands of our guests as they catch up with each other. “You got so tall” “Where do you want to go to college?” and “How about those’ Yankees?” are repeated over and over in familiar dulcet tones.

A smile spreads across my face as I spot an open seat next to my grandfather. I pull out the metal chair and its cold seat catches me by surprise. My grandfather’s warm hand on mine makes me forget the icy shock. I set down the plate of food I put together for him so that he doesn’t have to leave his conversation. “Thank you, sweet girl,” he says without really interrupting the person who is talking to him. And I feel joy.

Bodies pivot to get out of each other’s way as five sets of hands get the dinner displayed. Chatter continues through the buffet line, and everyone always compliments my mom and means it. In no particular order, the seats fill at the tables.

Warm smiles and voracious laughs fill the room. Our Ladino holiday tradition of sharing our hopes for the upcoming year is followed by a spoonful of too sweet jelly to seal the deal. The sticky spoons are placed in a cup and shuttled back to the kitchen.

The numbers on that green oven clock change too rapidly. Long hugs, promises to see each other soon and audible pats on the back populate our foyer.