Thanksgiving 2011

 “ Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received.

    Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling.

     Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse.” ~ Henry Van Dyke

 

Today I am thankful it is November,

my favorite month of autumn,

my birthday month.

I was only one week old for my first Thanksgiving

not declared our official holiday until I was one!

Seventy-one  Novembers string out behind

 like fence posts or street lights

 or white lines in the middle of a Texas highway.

Looking back I can see only so far,

then the fading distance

 brings blurred markers of where I have been.

Feelings, impulses, followings

 tumble around in kaleidoscopic color.

 

I was grateful in all those Novembers,

 thankful much,

offered thanksgiving in most.

I take joy in this November, 

I celebrate now.

 

Today, I give thanks for…

 

God’s enough

changing seasons of weather and life

learning both to let go and hold on

ordinary things

green leaves brushed with burnish

the fragrance of basil on my hands

 as I gather seed

endurance

Grace and Mercy following me all the days of my life

 Vision – the cornea donors who helped me see again

 church, worship

lingering echoes of my granddaughters’ laughter

red crepe myrtle leaves

gold and scarlet Chinese tallow trees

caring friends

patience for waiting

our Meyer lemon tree harvest

singing songs of Christmas

poetry of Luci Shaw and Ruth Bell Graham

waking to sounds of Joe making coffee

the smell of burning cinnamon sticks in the chiminea

truth in a pumpkin poem – “hollowed out but shining”

morning music that sings “Come to the Quiet.”

simplicity in the chaos all around me

light and shadow

a curtain of moonflowers at my kitchen window

planting baby kale and cauliflower

mockingbirds on the fence

clock chimes, church bells

open arms

tender care

“paying attention, being astonished, and telling about it” (Mary Oliver)

Jan Karon’s recipe for roasting Rosemary and Honey onions

Holding the hands of those who have gone before (remembering Mother)

stitches of love in a crocheted afghan

my Forever Friend, Joe

Homework.  Heartwork.

Seeds from our own pomegranates

books that are old friends

a stay at home day

my beloved sons

and my daughters who are my son’s wives

granddaughters, my delight

a garden to tend

Violin music

Kristin’s piano playing

porch time

love that will not let me go

Joe’s courage in spite of pain

cooking, my kitchen therapy

“the love which from our birth over and around us lies.” (J Rutter)