Breakfast at our local Cajun restaurant with a friend I guess could be the age of a daughter---Rich, lovely sharing and catching up; leisurely: we finally left as the lunch crowd were coming in.
Then to the local indie bookstore to sell back some books; and of course I left with other used ones. I continued down the street to the gourmet cooking supply place, for really really good chocolate for the flourless Queen of Sheba cake that will be my contribution to Thanksgiving dinner.
I find that the kavannah of the season pervades the atmosphere: I am thinking of the very many things I am grateful for, from decent health to this house that I love to the friends whom I appreciate so much.
I am remembering how Thanksgiving morning minyan, Zalman would sing some of the liturgy to the well-known Thanksgiving hymn...("We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing...") [Mazal has just gotten herself up onto the desk beside me by first climbing up on a nearby hassock and then tapping me with her paw until I lifted her onto my lap, from where she hauled herself onto the desk and is now basking in the warmth of the lamp with her head on my left forearm. Purring.]
I am grateful that we still, even in this toxic political climate, have folks who are concerned for the good of all.
I am grateful for health, for adequate memory, for Zalman having insisted that I learn to use a computer, for friends with whom to make music and to play, for what may be a lifetime supply of excellent blank journals and a few decent fountain pens, for a house full of books, and for enough things that I want to learn that boredom isn't likely.
I'm grateful that I had a mother for whom sharing what we had---even when that wasn't much---was the normal and expected thing to do. And that she was the kind of person who once sent her grouchy boss a live horny toad.
I'm grateful that folk music and international folk dance were part of my adolescence, and have stayed part of my life.
I'm glad for the stories I've heard and the stories I've told.
I'm grateful for having lived in other countries.
I thank G-d with all my heart that I lived a great love.
Even now, living the pain of being without him, I say it was worth it.