I confess I’m always thankful for a new week. Even though today began with a botched poetry submission (from two months ago, who knew?) and a wardrobe malfunction at the gym, I’m thankful for yet another fresh start.
But today, I have a much bigger reason to feel thankful. Today, my son turns 22.
(I don’t have a recent picture because he doesn’t like to have his picture taken.)
I remember the day of his birth so well–also a Monday, sunny with a hint of the coming fall. I remember how he swam in the little outfit he wore home from the hospital. It was tiny, and it was huge on him. Now he’s big–6’4″ and nicknamed “Muscles.”
So tonight it’s spaghetti and meatballs and chocolate cake and family and celebration–so much to be thankful for.
Looking back at the past week, I’m also thankful for dinner with a friend (outside! which we almost never do, even though it got a little chilly toward the end and dark).
I’m thankful for my real day off on Saturday.
I’m thankful we got the hedges trimmed yesterday. It’s a job I loathe, but I can be thankful it’s done now. Mostly, thanks to Tom and Daniel, who did all the trimming. I just ferried leaves to the bin in the alley. Many leaves.
I’m thankful for the opportunity to read at the Seattle Center Poetry Garden yesterday with Cody Walker. And thanks to the people who came! (I don’t have pictures because I always forget.)
If you haven’t been to the Poetry Garden, stop by the next time you’re in the neighborhood. It’s small and tucked away and mostly boulders engraved with parts of poems.
I’m thankful for that brief visit to the Seattle Center. A big Tibetan festival was going on in the Center House, with music and dancing and booths. I didn’t linger, but it felt so festive and vibrant as I carried my event sign through.
All in all, a fine week, and now we begin another one.
Open the door. Open my heart.