22 November 2001
Good morning, and happy Thanksgiving. I'm up at my usual time despite going to bed rather late last night; that's okay. We got into a book discussion with Evan, about Shakespeare and Harry Potter, and then I had to wind down. Got "Golem in the Snow" sent out, despite my sneaking suspicion that the title sounds like "Turkey in the Straw." (Bet you didn't think of that until I said it, but now you agree with me.)
I'm thankful for a lot of things this year, big things and little things. I'm thankful for the people I love and the people who love me. I'm thankful that Steven Brust has started a weblog that amuses me. I'm thankful that we're seeing pictures of Afghan women's faces in the newspaper again. I'm thankful that I'm neither cooking nor eating turkey, today or any time this weekend. I'm thankful that some police departments are refusing to help the feds detain and question recent immigrants who aren't suspected of any crimes. I'm thankful that the dog on today's calendar picture is not, in fact, dressed as a turkey. I'm thankful that I get to be a writer, all the time.
But mostly this year, I'm thankful for science, and I'm thankful for doctors, because this year my grandpa beat cancer, again. Because we could go from, "Oh, good Lord, Grandpa has cancer!" to "Whew, he's cancer free!" in less than one week. Because we didn't go through the Fourth of July and my birthday and his and Grandma's anniversary and Halloween and the Marine Corps birthday ball and now Thanksgiving and all of the days in between, thinking, "This will be the last time Grandpa gets to do this, this is the last time he'll see this." Because it won't, because we get to keep him. Because he could dance with my grandma at his great-niece's wedding, less than two months after the surgery.
I'm thankful because he could talk to me on the phone last night about how he went to his stamp collectors' club and spent 35 cents, and I could jump in with my line ("Think you can afford it?") and he could laugh and say, "I knew you'd say that. I told you Rissy'd say that, Beverly." Because I can tease him about how we don't have to eat turkey at my house ("just a damn big chicken," he says every year). Because I can crab at him for not having anything on his wish list. ("I don't need anything. I've got everything I need.") Because I know that he'll still eat every piece of garlic bread in the basket, while still claiming that garlic is "stiff stuff." Because I know that he'll try to open his Christmas presents when it's not his turn yet, first by easing off the ribbons and then getting the gift tags, and then using his pocket knife to slit the tape at the ends of the package. And when Mother says, "Dad, cut it out!", he'll say, "I was just loosening it. Just getting it ready." Because for someone who doesn't need anything, he's awfully eager to see what he got. I'm thankful for all of that.
I'm thankful that there's still someone in the world who calls me "Little Princess" and means it every single time.
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