I meant to write this post last week.
I meant to tell you all the things I'm thankful for on the designated day of Being Thankful. But instead I helped my mother make dinner for thirty of my friends on Wednesday and ten or so of my family members on Thursday. I cooked and ate and drank. I danced and drank some more and broke some glassware. I ate as much pie as I could bare without a thought for my waistline and then put on a bathing suit. I watched three of my crazy friends jump in the ice cold lake and then got in the hot tub with them and others where we drank some more. I stayed up nearly till sunrise to spend just a little more time with the people I'm so lucky to have had show up in my life just when I needed them most. As though it all might disappear tomorrow.
Which, of course, it might.
I tried to focus on who was there, on who sat beside me. My heart ached for some missing faces: some simply far away, others unreachable for much more difficult reasons. I tried to appreciate the strength of those around me and forgive the weakness of those who couldn't find their way to me when I'd needed them. I tried to take it all in. I tried to let it all go.
And I was thankful.
