David and Liz: intrigued?
David writing a pirate poem
by the pond with swans and ducksFor the holidays, David and I headed back East to drop in to my sister's Saturday Night Fever and brave Penn Station at the very same time that Manhattan let out early for the holidays. Bags fully packed with stuffing, no free hands, we had much to give, and much to be thankful for. At the end of the road (track) was East Hampton, and the house we were to spend Thankgiving with Liz and all in the family. It was a rustic colonial just a few miles from town-Walbaum's, Breezin' Up, Scoop, JCrew by the Sea, and a ton of other quaint retail stores I know and love that did not call my name. I was too busy having fun--either laughing and gasping for air, or doing the thousand yard stare. Both were acceptable, nothing was expected. I was grateful, touched, and so very happy to spend the holidays exactly where we were meant to be.
There were moments where I watched two co-survivors bond over our situations, and how it affected them both. There were moments where all I wanted to do was collect leaves and take photographs. There were late nights and brisk early mornings warmed by the sounds of the cutest angel pirate artist soccer girl on this planet. There was no internet, no phone calls--we put our obligations aside and did what every family should do more of--not just on holidays, but ordinary days--we spent time with each other. We talked, laughed, ate, drank, played in the leaves, never needing to think, "What do we do next?"
I guess I don't really have words for this time. I've always called the trial the fifth season. So in celebration of all that is joyous--like warm boots, sweaters, holga cameras, red wine, washable magic markers, pirate sticks and golden leaves --- I'll just say that this year, the season to be merry began when I was giving thanks for all the love and support from David, and Liz and co. for the longest list of things for me to be thankful for.
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