2022 hasn’t been the year I thought it would be. (What year is, right?) And the latter half, especially, has been challenging and stressful and sad and just not great at all. But as we come into this week of Thanksgiving, I’m still thankful for this life.
I’m thankful for my loving family and my supportive friends.
I’m thankful for Graham. All of him. Every day.
I’m thankful for Gatsby and Annie, and their wonderful chaos, and their sweet faces.
I’m thankful for a beautiful old house that just refuses to fall down.
I’m thankful for you, kind readers, who keep coming back and reading what I put out into the world.
I’m thankful for this day, and the one that will come after, and the new chance every morning to create something good.
I’m not perfect. I’ve struggled in these last few months with some darkness I honestly didn’t know I had in me. But I know that I’ve still got so much to be thankful for, and my heart is just full of gratitude. It really, truly is.
I hope 2023 is better, but I’m still thankful for 2022 and what it’s taught me: There is always light.