The older I get (and I’m getting quite old), the more I realize the importance of the quieter parts of days like Thanksgiving, and the opportunity to meditate on the real meaning behind the holiday. It’s more than stuffing turkeys and stuffing ourselves, more than fables of camaraderie and feasts between Native Americans and immigrants, and more than the first official shopping day of the season. It is a day of gratitude – and almost everyone can find one or two things for which they can be truly grateful. Sometimes just taking a breath is reason enough to give thanks. That we are here. That we are alive. That we are still going.
I pause at such moments. In the early light of the day I sit in the quiet of the dining room, looking out at the backyard. The wet and matted grass is dotted with fallen leaves and little pebbles of rabbit scat. On winter mornings the cardinals will visit, gorgeously scarlet against a winter sky – jagged splotches of red in a sea of snow. For now, though, all is gray and brown and still. Another moment for which to give thanks. Another day in which to find gratitude.
As Andy and I are enjoying a meal with our family, I wish you the best in whatever you may do today.
