Counting our blessings, sublime to ridiculous
(Page 3 of 3)
I’m grateful that I know how to play bridge. If I hadn’t learned when I was young, I’m not sure I would take the time to learn now. Bridge is the best metaphor I know for engaging in life, full out, with intelligence and even passion, all while sitting in a comfortable chair.
And I offer thanks this year for my friends who’ve stopped me from walking into the ocean after various calamities, political and personal. Yes, friends. How lucky can a girl get to have friends who are steadfast and fine and funny and kind? My friends don’t all know one another, but they surround me with an invisible net that keeps me buoyant when the seas get rough.
Of course, I thank whatever stars may be for my home, the place we gather on Thanksgiving, and for the kids and grandkids and nieces and nephews and sisters and parents who take their places at our table. The loves of my life will come together and eat turkey and hold their bellies and laugh at old family jokes.
And under the table, Zoe the dog will stretch out, sniffing the air and offering prayers for crumbs that may fall her way. My sweet, sweet Zoe, a blessing indeed.
Copyright © 2013 Randi Kreiss. Randi can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.