This coming weekend brings my 15th Canadian Thanksgiving, a tradition I still haven’t gotten used to. There’s no football on tv and no one here to make me pecan pie. It’s not particularly cold outside and the malls here aren’t jammed with people looking to do early Christmas shopping. The only thing that feels Thanksgivingy are the fall colors (colours, whatever!).
Since the last hoser Thanksgiving I got (on my birthday) tickets to a Rush concert from the drummer’s father. Shortly after things went downhill but I gathered enough courage to face my problems and I saw a shrink. I told her things I didn’t think I could even tell my dogs in private. I almost lost but managed to begin rebuilding my relationship with John. I survived the stress of a ridiculous lawsuit against our store and came out the other end relatively unscathed. I had a decent season of softball, despite being on yet another lousy team. Along with 18 home runs, there was virtually no drama on the team. I even got intentionally walked a few times! Wicked.
I’m thankful that my dad survived another heart attack, which scared the crap out of me a few weeks ago. John surprised me with a ticket home and my buddy Joe insisted on picking me up at the airport. I’m thankful that I have parents like I do, and friends like Joe, who treat me the same as they did before they knew “who” I really was. They always knew who I really was.
I’m thankful for David, a 19 year old friend who came over every week to watch Dexter and Breaking Bad, to drink a few beer, and to shoot the breeze; and for treating John and I like any one of his other friends. And for giving me a hug the day I found out about dad’s heart attack.
…And for the other two David’s in my life, you know who you are. Again for Joe, for Marc, for Terry, the lifer-friends I have. For Eric, for JD & Stef, and for Tim. Many others that I haven’t seen in ages but when I do it will be like we saw each other five minutes ago.
I’m also thankful I grew the balls to put 4 grand on my credit card and live the fantasy of baseball camp this January! (Film at 11) Look out, Boog Powell and Chris Hoiles, I’m bringing the heat!
Until next time, be thankful you’re alive.