Is it a boring cliché to talk about gratitude when the Thanksgiving holiday approaches? Looking back over the past few very hectic months, I find myself brimming with that emotion, despite so many terrible problems—the European debt crisis, the unemployment and economic distress of so many, the persistent progress of hydraulic fracturing, no matter the environmental and health risks.
Attending my high school reunion six weeks ago, I don’t take my thankfulness for granted. Seventy plus members of my high school class are no longer alive; others have debilitating health problems. I know how quickly one’s health can go from good to failing.
So I sit here grateful, for a new grandchild coming to Pittsburgh for the very first time, for work that is excruciatingly satisfying, though very demanding, for students and mentees who give me meaning and joy, for books, for editors and agents, for writing conferences that inspire and inform.
And I’m especially thankful for my family, my bright, loving, competent, and funny husband and kids, and for my lovable brother and sister and their offspring, even though their politics are very wrongheaded!
And for my friends,
And then there is Flossie, the guide dog nut bag of the world. Oh frabjus day!