An early deadline this week, so I have been trying to come up with something for this column, my Thanksgiving column. Giving thanks seems a worthy subject. I have always tried to acknowledge that my half-full glass is quite full of so many reasons to be thankful.
My life, as all lives are, has had its share of good and bad. I have reacted to both. Here is my gratitude list. I hope everyone reading this will make one of their own. It does give one perspective.
I am grateful for my childhood in Ridgefield at a time that felt safe, with parents who gave me a firm set of values that have carried me through my life. I was well-educated in good schools. Education was valued, as was hard work, and being part of a small-town community. We still had snowy winters. My parents made holidays special, and gave me the happy memories I treasure. Two of my brothers are still alive to share those memories and traditions.
I am grateful for whatever brought me to Martha’s Vineyard, an unknown place where I knew no one. I was running away from something, and I found myself.
I am most grateful for my husband, Mike. He is my solid presence, my support, my balance. He has loved me at my most and least lovable. He has given me a family, a home, years of dog walks, his good counsel, his quiet stability, and his competence in any and all situations.
Mike introduced me to West Tisbury, where he grew up summers, and to his friends of long-standing. I couldn’t have found a better place. Anyone who reads my weekly column knows how much I love this town, and feel tremendous gratitude for having miraculously landed here. West Tisbury has given me a similar sense of home as my early years in Ridgefield. I have friends of more than half my life’s duration. I have been part of children’s lives, and now I’m watching their children grow up. Great-grandchildren will someday come, too. Earning their love has been my greatest achievement.
I have been able to have my art gallery, to pursue my interests, to expand my skills and potential. Seeing the world through painter’s eyes, describing my world in colored expanses, challenges me daily. Becoming a writer, I now have the world of language to explore. Learning about Alzheimer’s care has been fascinating and rewarding, doing something useful that makes a difference in someone else’s day. Being a library trustee, serving as a registrar of voters, writing this column have all given me my place here.
Membership at the Hebrew Center has made me feel close to my parents. Putting my tallis around my shoulders reminds me of my father and mother sitting close beside me at services. I am grateful for the prayers being familiar, for new friendships made, for the intellectual stimulation of study and discussion as we read and reread the Torah year after year.
I am grateful that the fears, misjudgements, and disappointments don’t overwhelm what has been good. They have certainly been there, like Thanksgivings when the Brussels sprouts were burned, or there were disagreements at the table that seemed huge at the time.
I am grateful to be writing this under a quilt on my sofa, with Nelson on my lap pushing the computer aside, with Abby warming my feet. We have been blessed with our pets, all rescued, as I feel I have been.
Wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving.
