Thanksgiving 2007

Thanksgiving. So much to be thankful for. And, still, so much here that I do not understand (Rich, Towards the Solstice).
What am I grateful for, on this dark and warm evening in 2007?

  • Dear friends, near and far, old and new – friends from childhood, friends from adulthood, friends from motherhood, friends from all the stages of my life, and those few special friends who cut across the boundaries of those stages and identities
  • Health, my own and that of my family – particularly salient at this time, with John’s new heart, Jessica’s recovery, and many others doing well in spite of steep obstacles
  • As Lacy calls it, the benevolent universe – I never expected such blessings at this time in my life; complex though they may be, they are all good and I am aware of my great good fortune
  • The memory of those no longer here, but nearby – Nana, Grammy, Ba, Gaga, Jonathan – family and others who are gone now but remain near. In particular, Nana and Ba, who I think of every time I drive to Providence, and whose spirit and memory animates much of my time in Rhode Island.
  • The spirited generation that comes after us – Grace and Whit, Hannah, Sophia, Catherine, Johann, and the extended family: Charlie, James, Benjamin, Will, Emma, Charlotte, Jack, Thacher, and so many others … I am confident that the world is in good hands!
  • Poetry, literature, writing of all kinds – “we read to know that we are not alone” – how much solace words have brought me over the years, to this day!
  • My overly muscular legs, for letting me run far and long; it is on my runs when I can be blessedly alone with my thoughts. My favorite run of 2007: in the Stanford hills
  • Mentors and teachers who have helped me to where I am now: Mr. Valhouli, Elaine Showalter, Amy Glass, Mike Ahearn, Katie Clancy, Paige Price. Your influence, wisdom, and advice means more than you can imagine. I am spurred onward by the memory of the commitment to and investment in me you each have made.
  • Mum and Dad, whose example and love is with me every minute of every day. Now that I am a parent I am so incredibly, viscerally aware of all the ways in which you gave of yourselves. It is my profound hope that I can be to Grace and Whit a fraction of what you were (are) to me.
  • Hilary Whitman Mead, of whom there is still no better description than that in the preface to my thesis: “the world’s only older-and-wiser younger sister.”

Thank you for all of these things, and for so many more. I feel full of life tonight, full of thanks and emotion and sadness, and of the poignant happy-sad dichotomy that defines my life.

Thank you, whatever comes.
One hour was sunlit and the most high gods
May not make boast of any better thing
Than to have watched that hour as it passed.
– Ezra Pound