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.
