It is often the case that with a little time, I reread something I wrote, something I wrote and edited even– and realize that there are some small (or would you call them large?) grammatical or punctuation errors which confuse or even obscure the intended meaning of the piece I wrote. Looking back at my very brief gesture in the direction of Thanksgiving– a post written very late last night, I realize that there was one such error. The intended meaning of the post entitled just a very few things for which I give thanks was really more along the lines of “Just a very few of the many things for which I give thanks; a list, not exhaustive”. I did not mean that there are just a very few things for which I feel thankful. Which is, upon re-reading, what I think I wrote.
People; predictable but no less important for being predictable– my mom, sister, nephews Joey and Isaac, my beloved–M. and, daughter N. and the amazing good fortune (mine) that life unfolded such that my particular daughter was placed in my arms in her 12th day of life. My father while he was alive and now as I reflect on things I loved about him.
Poetry, the very best teachers I’ve had and the good fortune to have been taught by them, and a few special teachers who are in my life in their role as my daughter’s teachers. Having grown up listening to Arlo Guthrie doing Alice’s Restaurant and listening to it– a Thanksgiving story– again today. Several particular friendships with both women and men– friendships that have seen me through and the names of whom shall not be listed here. And two women bloggers whose links and comments appear here regularly. You know exactly who you are. Weather of many kinds– and Lake Michigan its blues and greens and greys and blacks.
Music of many varieties including the lullaby I sang to my daughter as she fell asleep tonight and including the Bach cello suite 1 and boys/ young men, like Nathan Chan who learned to play that cello suite.
The gift of an entire family, immigrated from Mexico to this city– and their extraordinary goodness and friendship and the thanksgiving dinner we shared tonight at their home; a huge, Mexican feast with an 18-pound turkey right in the middle of the table along with very cold mashed potatoes, homemade tortillas, guacamole with jalapeno, arroz, dinner rolls, broccoli, salad and a dish of beef cooked for hours and hours and hours until the juices form a kind of soup– named something I cannot remember. And there were brownies and pumpkin pie with whipped cream. There were important stories in several people’s lives to catch up on and from the belly laughter as well as eight funny, interesting children ranging in age from 2 years to 15.
To name just a very few of the things.