Thanks for anything. And thanks for everything.
All countries have their share of holidays. But not many have a holiday for just “giving thanks.” Canada has their Thanksgiving Day in October. There may be other counties, but not many have a day, or in our case a 4-day weekend, to celebrate giving thanks. Of course, most of the weekend is now commercially driven, but the third Thursday in November is the U.S.’s day for being in the ‘thanks’ spirit.
And in that spirit, GV and I hopped on a train and headed south that day to brother P’s and wife M’s new lakeside home in Williamsburg, VA. Sister S flew in from Chicago and our mother tripped down from PA giving us all a spirit of thanks for being able to get together on rare occasions.
Last Thanksgiving Day I was only dreaming of food. I was, at best, still dumping liquid down the feeding tube. So this year I’m super thankful to have been able to cut up small pieces of turkey covered with gravy or other assorted moisture additives and washing it down with water. I even felt the bird flesh giving thanks for being able to work its way down my throat.
So here I am, on Sunday after a long weekend, giving thanks for just about anything, and about everything I can think of, as bro P starts cooking up another turkey, we whack a few more plants (sister S goes to buy them) and break bread together before we get back to our individual life routines tomorrow.
In the event I haven’t said it enough, I’m saying thanks. An internal thanks for being able to write this. And a special thanks to anyone who continues to read this. I’m tippin my hat on this sunny Sunday and sayin, thanks again.