A Piece of Thanks

The visiting priest in church today suggested that before we say grace on Thanksgiving, everyone take a moment to mention something for which they are thankful.  It’s a lovely sentiment, one I’ve wanted to adopt for a long time.  But there’s a problem.  This year, there will be twenty-five of us seated around the table (four tables, actually), and I’m pretty sure the food would be stone cold before we all finished.  It’s a juggling act getting the meal out as it is, so I’m not going to ask that of our guests.

Instead, I’m taking this time out today to think about what I’m thankful for, not the least of which is that this writing life allows me to visit deep inside myself and recognize the person I’ve evolved into over the last several years is someone I like a lot. And please know how thankful I am for all you supportive readers.  You mean more to me than I can ever explain.

I am thankful for my dear and industrious husband, who is currently out raking for the sixth weekend in a row so the place looks nice on Thursday.  I’ll be out there helping to drag tarps full of leaves into the woods for him soon, and I’m thankful that I’m strong enough to do that and, because I’m twelve pounds lighter than I was three months ago, the hauling is that much easier.

This year, I give special thanks that our daughter seems to have discovered a path she loves.  Since September, we’ve witnessed her grow into a pastry expert as she attends culinary school.  She's doing so after grinding it out in the kitchen of a local restaurant kitchen for a year, which makes me respect her will and her dedication.  Cooking has always been my means to nurture those I love.  It's wonderful to watch as she turns something that has offered me such joy, into her career. 

 

And, yep, I’m thankful to hand off the rolling pin to her.  I'll be the sous chef as she makes the Thanksgiving pies this year.  Food is memory, and baking pie reminds me of growing up and my mother, and the comfort of home.  Creating things from scratch is my way of bestowing those feelings on my own little family, and now it appears our daughter may be carrying on that tradition. 

Watching someone you love learn and grow and come into herself in a way you treasure, well, let me tell you, that's some kind of tasty treat.

Wishing you all a wonderful holiday . . . and lots of pie.