On the eve of Thanksgiving in the United States my warmest wishes, knowing that keeping to the regularity of this blog, the Thursday post always looking ahead will turn to World’s AIDS Day. So, softer moments my friends …
For sweet dumpling squash stuffed with rice,
for the pumpkin bread
my daughter sent from California,
for the old woman’s frail hand in mine,
on one more trip to the nursing home,
for the eight at the table
their banter and the jokes, the stories.
There is rain here instead of snow
selfish, I am pleased,
and also selfish that this one time
no one close to me is in the hospital.
There is cooking and after-cooking pleasures —
some turn to football,
some to Settlers of Catan, Bananagrams, naps …
me into the adventure of a new novel.
The dog sighs – she has grown
too old to steal turkey,
but she was given some.
For sweet counted moments stuffed with life,
for the kindness of children,
the mysterious resilience of elders,
and the task of recognizing
that comes to those of us in between.
For all the holy stories
of all the peoples of the world
and the way telling them around a table
makes the tables holy, too.