Pushing 86, I still have some of my teeth, some of my hair, and even some of my savings, so I'm pretty blessed. Then too I have both Cheari and Catherine who watch over me daily by phone. not to forget Kelly, my housekeeper, who nags me when I forget my pills, and does a hundred things around here not on her job description.
But most fortunate of all, I have friends, new and old, that sustain me. Wherever I live or travel I embrace them. I still discover new objects of beauty, and I still have the ability to appreciate them, interpret them, and be inspired by them.
This Thanksgiving would have been 59 years for Lee and Bonnie, if she were still living. I remember our first, in fog encased Tacoma, and I remember most of them in between. How lucky am I.
So thanks, troubled world, for all the tender memories.
There are new ones yet to come. Next week I'll be hanging my hat in the East Bay where two groups of dear friends are having a gathering for me and where I'll get to connect with many old friends and haunts. Thanksgiving again will be with Andrea and Stace in Hayward, where I'll be hanging my hat (and oxygen machine).
Even though our days in the Valley of the Moon continue to be warm and sunny, I spent a pleasant afternoon Thursday painting persimmon greeting cards at the kitchen table. It was cheap paper, so the colors sort of ran in crazy patterns. The persimmons this year are from friend Steve's yard. I am waiting for them to get squishy enough to make cookies, hopefully tomorrow. Meanwhile, my paint brush can interpret them.
My heart, if unsynchronized, is still overflowing.