Schmoopsie and I believe in family. We believe there are three ways to get family- some we are born to, some we marry into, and some we choose. This morning, as I sent out a few text messages to friends and family, I smiled to myself thinking, over and over again, "They should really be in the 'I love you, family' text." The different surnames, skin color, hair type-- it doesn't matter. I believe in family, whether we are legally related or not.
I am thankful for faith. The year of my crazy twenty-six may have brought its share of tears, but it was purifying, strengthening, fortifying. There is a piece of my spirit that is more refined, more solid than before. I can physically feel it in the center of my chest, swelling, taking my breath away sometimes.
I am thankful for love. My baby in her high chair with her sleeves rolled up, cheerfully filling her cheeks with mandarin orange wedges-- that is love. Schmoopsie fast-forwarding to show me all the good plays in the Jazz game while I am curled up beside him-- that is love.
I am thankful new haircuts, new shoes, and new sheets. I am thankful for black beans, white bread, and cheese of any color (except blue.) I am grateful for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
I love Thanksgiving, and I am thankful for my good life.
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