There are certain things I do on this day every year.
I get up early and go for a run. Growing up back home, I always had the road to myself. I could feel every bird, tree, fence post, and animal within a country mile of myself. I still miss that.
After a hot shower, I eat oatmeal with crunchy peanut butter and maple syrup and turn on Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I like to pretend I’m really on 34th street, jumping up and down clapping my hands when the Snoopy balloon comes around the corner.
While my meal is cooking (this time around it was deep dish pizza, a pile of crunchy lettuce, romas, and green peppers, and cream cheese brownies with extra-fudgy frosting), I hang Christmas lights and sing along to all my favorite old school country western artists.
I’m lucky enough to have three guests of the canine variety, so my dog Singer and her buddies Max, Scout, and Barley all got to snack on pizza crust during clean up. We went outside and sat in the sunshine for a good long time after. Being surrounded by a sprawling pack of dogs who need nothing more than that is extremely satisfying.
Around 7, I always text or call my loved ones and tell ’em Happy Thanksgiving. Inevitably I wind up in conversation with someone, and as we deliver our heartfelt messages, my smile is so full of joy there are tears stinging in my eyes.
I wish this for all of you.