My house smells like sautéed onions and fennel and sausage. My two best friends are in my kitchen, visiting town in a whirlwind of grocery shopping and cooking and running the dishwasher over and over as we dirty every pot and pan I own. My sons are eating dinner with my husband, and we’re all listening to music and dancing.
I am thankful for my family. I am thankful that my brother proposed to his girlfriend, who I have always loved as a sister. I am thankful for my friends, the ones who’ve become part of my family, and those who I’ve met over the past year and a half.
I’m thankful for my children, and the way that they make every day of my life a challenge. They pull the rug out from under me with each passing moment. I’m blind, feeling my way along skinny limbs and soft curls and tiny kisses. I will never be bored.
I’m thankful for my husband, and the way he makes me laugh. I’m thankful for the way he touches the back my head and gives me shivers. I’m thankful for the way he parents our children. I’m thankful for his patience and the crazy look he gets on his face when he knows he’s being a shithead.
I am thankful for silly things. For scented soap and cute boys on TV and a good book to stay up too late at night reading. For the tickle in my stomach.
I am so thankful to those who read my words and those who write and share their own.
I am thankful that despite what has happened this year, I have hope to hang on to.
I am thankful for love.
Happy Thanksgiving.
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