Thankful

...I am thankful for this piece of land. For every return trip that brings me up the gravel drive, rounding the corner to see the house. We've found a beautiful metal compass-rose star that hangs between our garage doors, as if to say, "Here is home." I am thankful for the way the leaves still catch small eddies of late autumn wind, and rise up twirling into the blue sky, and for the meadows with the grass mown down where voles and foxes and mule deer leave their tracks.

…I am thankful for my small, “a little bit big” boy who every single day astounds me. He’s become sweeter, if that’s possible. More thoughtful. The other night, I sank into DH’s arms, sobbing with exhaustion and overwhelm. “Don’t cry mommy,” he said, and then put both hands on my face and tried to move my cheeks into a smile. Tenderly. Earnestly. And I smiled.

…I am thankful for my guy: broad shouldered, full of laughter, driven to make the best life possible for our family; and for the way he’s always game to take the leap with me—to plan for living in Europe in two summers time; or to put up with and support the certain crazy of my writing life. I am thankful for his topaz eyes, and for the fact that he could stop, when we were arguing and wrap me in his arms despite the sharp edged words I’d flung towards him that were hanging in the air.

…And also for my brilliant sisters; my girlfriends; the way my cat curls up to nap at my hip as I sit on the couch; the way the sun falls through our dining room windows; for our wood stove; for morning lattes, kisses, Project Runway, dark chocolate, Bean hugs, books, and you.