Doors can be heavy
they can be transparent
Doors are different than windows,
whatever lies on the other side is anyone’s guess—
elephants or sinkholes,
mint leaves, magpies, corduroy or moonlight.
birth of a child
2:00 am ringing phones
death of a parent
intimate becoming invisible
cancer and chemo
hesitations in conversations
dry summer lightning
dinner with a friend
a photograph and a letter
laughing with Philip
watching birds fly
the smell of old books
morning cup of coffee
jewelry with exotic stones
soft white rice
the moon reflecting on the water
BellaDonna following me from room to room
books about art
the smell of pencils
a new notebook
the sound of geese
the smell of spring
the blue light of dawn
a pot of rosemary
the smell of a simmering breakfast
gin and tonic
1967 Shelby Mustang
a worn side chair
steamy cup of tea
a walk in the woods
the sound of a distant train
fresh black pepper
friends on a porch
Day One — Today I’m grateful for my family. I’m grateful for my husband, for our apartment with the views of the river, for my warm safe bed.
Day Two — Today I’m grateful for my work. I get paid to pick colors and move images around on a page. That’s amazing, and I am so grateful for this.
Day Three — I’m grateful that I have good friends. I’m grateful I live in a beautiful city.
Day Four — I’m exhausted. I’m not feeling grateful. I’m feeling spiteful. Should I start a spiteful list?
Day Five — I know I’m supposed to pick something to be grateful for even though I don’t want to. I’m on day FIVE and I’m feeling done with this exercise. I am an ingrate.
Day Six — I’m grateful that I take Lexapro. Clearly, I should be taking more.
Day Seven — I’m grateful for my family. Also, I like chocolate.
Day Eight — Today I yelled at a guy in a parking lot who was sarcastic with me. I should have let it go. It wasn’t important. I’m grateful that I didn’t slap him.
Day Nine — I’m grateful that my kids are really nice people. Most of the time. My kids are teenagers and they do things that teenagers do. I’m grateful that I don’t want to give them up for adoption. Most of the time.
Day Ten — I’m grateful I can say “I’m sorry” when it matters.
Day Eleven — I’m grateful for strong black tea and pumpkin scones.
Day Twelve — I’m grateful for the sparrow that visited the table yesterday while Neve and I ate Brioche at a cafe.