In less than a week, my family — and likely yours — will be sitting down for a feast.

There’ll be a Thanksgiving turkey, of course, and my mother-in-law adds a ham because one of my daughters doesn’t like chicken or turkey. If past years are an indication, we can expect mounds of mashed potatoes — white and sweet — and squash to be available, as well as cranberry sauce, pearl onions (she makes these especially for me and my father-in-law), stuffing, gravy and warm rolls fresh from the oven to sop up anything left on the plate.

My mother-in-law, Donna Warren, is phenomenal. She and her other children handle all the details of dinner. For our part, my family tackles dessert. Donna’s first-born, and the love of my life, Candida, will bake enough pies for everyone of us to put on five pounds. Pumpkin, apple, chocolate and lemon meringue. And she’ll usually make a couple of each, and even throw in an extra fruit pie — or three — to entice everyone.

(And as sure as the pope is Catholic, her dad will request “the sampler plate,” a sliver of each, to ensure the pies are all as delicious as advertised.)

As the father of six children, I often think about how fortunate I am to be in this family, and how I have been blessed by God in Heaven far beyond anything I deserve.

I know it’s a cliché, that men — and some women — complain about their in-laws, but I have no point of reference. God has blessed my wife with two wonderful parents that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

After spending Thanksgiving with our various in-laws on Thursday, my siblings and our families would gather at our own parents’ home a few days later for Thanksgiving Day II.

Yes, Thanksgiving is a special time for my family to reflect on the blessings of the past year.

But last year my Thanksgiving routine was changed for ever. And this year will be doubly difficult. My dad died suddenly on Oct. 8, 2013, so last Thanksgiving found me spending extra time with my own mother. She had been married to dad for 47 years. It was tough to have that empty chair at the table. As we spent more time together, I wanted her to know I would be there for her as she grieved — and I knew that meant she would be there for me, too.

This year, though, there are two empty chairs. My mom was diagnosed with cancer and died in July, just three short weeks later. Two parents dying within 10 months; until then, I don’t think I actually knew what it meant to grieve.

I’ve had friends over the years who have lost parents. It’s tough on them, obviously, but it’s also tough on those of us who try to be supportive.

What can you say that will help, and not come across as shallow, insensitive or insincere? I struggled with this, as, I suspect many others have, too.

An article from Baylor University, “The Empty Chair at the Holiday Table: Helpful Ways to Interact with Someone Grieving the Loss of a Loved One,” offers some helpful tips.

“There are ways that are more helpful and ways that are less helpful to approach a grieving person,” said grief expert Helen Harris, assistant professor in Baylor University’s School of Social Work.

“There are so many things that folks say that are not helpful, mostly when we tell people what to do, what to believe and how not to feel,” Harris said. “Examples are: ‘God needed another angel’ or ‘At least you had him for xamount of years’ or ‘You shouldn’t feel sad. He isn’t suffering anymore.’”

More helpful ways to interact with a grieving person include:

• Listen more than talk.

“It is OK to say, ‘I don’t know what to say but I want you to know that I care,’” Harris said. “It is a better choice than saying nothing, or saying things that judge and marginalize.”

• Acknowledge the loss and express your caring.

“Be available. Ask if there is a holiday-related task you can help with. Will they be alone for Thanksgiving or Christmas? Invite them over or take a meal to their home if they are not ready to get out and be around others.”

• Find a way to include the lost loved one in the holidays.

“Light a candle on the mantel to burn through the day as a symbol of his continued presence; make an ornament with her name and place it on the tree; talk about their roles and be intentional about who will assume those roles, like carving the turkey; or use at least one of their favorite recipes for a holiday dish.”

• Take time to tell stories and look through old photos. But don’t push it.

“If folks find it too painful, there should be no pressure to do it,” Harris said. “There will be other holidays, other times and other gatherings.”

• Ask what helps and be open to what doesn’t.

• Avoid “helpful” actions that are actually hurtful.

“When you stay away, pretend it didn’t happen or walk the other way in a store so you don’t have to say anything — those things hurt,” Harris said.

Understand that there’s no set time frame for someone who suffers a loss to be “over it” or “move on.” It’s a long process and tends to get worse before it gets better. Those not closely connected to the loss will move on with their busy lives while the person who has lost a spouse or child or parent will experience fresh loss over and over while facing the first Thanksgiving, birthday, anniversary, Christmas, vacation, etc., without the person.

“There is a time when we manage our grief more than it manages us, and a time when the healing becomes strength,” like a once-broken “bone is stronger at the point of healing than the bone around it. But we are always changed, different because of both the life and the death of the person we loved and lost,” Harris said. “Continuing to miss our loved ones, and more importantly, being aware at times of how much we wish they were present, is, I believe, a life-long experience — and does not mean we have failed to move on.”

I found the suggestions helpful, and have thought back to how I haven’t been as helpful as I could have been to others. This year people have tried, and failed, to be a comfort to me. It’s not their fault. Grief can’t always be comforted away.

But I have taken comfort knowing that others have been through this and survived, and my siblings and I will too, with God’s grace, and the support of our extended family and friends.

We’re certainly not alone. There are many others — every reader probably can name several — who are struggling with loss during the holidays. Just try to be there for them.

When my mom died, I made wooden plaques for my siblings, aunts and uncles, and the grandchildren. Each has a picture of mom and dad, with special passages: Psalm 23, and Colossians 3. They offer hope and comfort for me as I spend a few moments each day in reflection. My family and I will get through this together.

“Love is more important than anything else. It is what ties everything completely together.” (Colossians 3:14).

It’s true, and that’s the way I see it.

DARYL MADORE is the Deputy Managing Editor and Worship page editor at The Times Record and can be reached at dmadore@timesrecord.com.