#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Woke into rain, and Thanksgiving Day, and a phone call from my dear friend ringing and wondering if I had chicken broth. It felt nicely holiday-ish to be needed. But I had only vegetable broth, but I was awake now and my youngest wanted to walk, so we went out into the rain. The downpour of November. We slopped along, both feeling uninspired by the day, a little glum. But as we slushed on through the leaves, the bare branches the dark sky, we started talking about having a grateful mood––making one. And we set to work on that, counting blessings. She said, let’s climb the steep hill and by the time we get to the top our moods will have transformed. So we trudged up the slippery hill, breathlessly, to the top, and we did it. Our hearts were pumping gratitude. And then she said, let’s go to King Philip’s Overlook and we’ll shout something we’re grateful for. So, we did that next. I shouted my gratitude for democracy and for Kamala Harris and Stacey Abrams out over the field and the river below. By now, we were both feeling much better. Then, after I dried and dressed, I decided to dress as if we were hosting a houseful of company, and that meant simply my gold jumper and tights and I went to the kitchen and started the pumpkin pie and the stuffing and my husband and both daughters were all chatting with me and the house started to smell good, and I suddenly realized that cooking didn’t feel like a chore, it felt like holiday fun, and I realized I was happy, very happy. I set the table with the fine china, for just the three of us, after my youngest left for her boyfriend’s family. I lit candles. The turkey roasted. We went in the living room by the fire and face-timed my son and his girlfriend who could not come, and we meditated together, the five of us, (dogs too) and then we went around sharing our gratitude. And then, I was really, really happy for this Thanksgiving, one like no other.