I have much for which to be thankful this year. Everyone else in my family is in pretty good health. Our two children are here with us for the holiday (today, we went to a Broadway play, "A Steady Rain"-- two fine actors, Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig, in a slight play). Three close friends will be joining us at the Thanksgiving table. As usual, all are eager to do justice to Susan's annual feast; as I write this entry, my appetite is being tantalized by smells from the kitchen. I am grateful for the respite that I have been allowed from chemotherapy and expect to be able to be able to hold my own at the dinner table. Indeed, I feel better than I have since early this year, a month or so before my cancer diagnosis at the beginning of March.
As you would expect, the poignancy of knowing that it is not unlikely that this Thanksgiving will either be my last or, if not my last, the last that I will be in any condition to enjoy, heightens my appreciation of the occasion. During each of the few trips that I have taken since March-- to Saratoga Springs, Miami, Jacksonville, and Paris-- I have been constantly cognizant that I might be seeing a familiar place for the last time. Whenever I have seen a friend who lives somewhere other than New York City, I have wondered if it were for the last time: a thought that I assume has been reciprocated.
I am grateful to have so much not to take for granted.
