I Am Thankful

Pumpkin whoopie pies, ready for Thanksgiving.

I am grateful for the big things:  a good, good husband of 32 years in whose company there is still mutual hum and buzz and easy goofiness; two smart, deeply beautiful daughters who care to make the world a better place and make me inexpressibly wonderful meals; my sister and her family -- my best friends, now neighbors; kind, interesting friends who bring out the kid and tolerate the crank in me; a job I very nearly love, but more so the sabbatical from it; the voice and desire to speak for those with less to be grateful for; the gifts, from my parents, of creativity, intelligence and resilience; the gifts, left at my door in a wicker basket, of optimism and engagement. 


But the big things come and go: I have a tiff with my husband, a friend moves away, the job market blows, my voice is not heard. Then and always, I am thankful for a good cup of coffee and the morning paper; the poetry of the seasons; a smile from a stranger as we overhear the same funny kid; my breath as I walk the streets of this theater called New York City; the breeze over the river or rustling the trees when I've had enough of the circus; the pleasure in giving someone a hand, a seat, a shoulder; the world’s mundane but constant, breathtaking abundance. 


Happy Thanksgiving.