Being Thankful

If there is a better way to start a Thanksgiving day than running from Brooklyn to Manhattan and back over the Brooklyn Bridge, I don’t know what it is. Oh, wait. Yes I do. It is running from Brooklyn to Manhattan and back over the Brooklyn Bridge with your best friend.

(Confession: My husband and I preemptively assuaged our guilt for not taking our boys to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade by taking them to see the already-inflated balloons on Wednesday night. We hedged our bets by saying that the weather was likely to be poor (it was, after all, late November in New York City), and our little Texans were not likely to want to sit out in the cold and wind. How were we to know it was going to be an absolutely gorgeous–sunny, still, and perfectly crisp– Thanksgiving morning?!)

My husband and I left the boys with their grandparents and set off for an easy four-mile run. We don’t get to run together all that often, so we use the time of relative quiet to talk about both the nuts-and-bolts of our family life as well as our hopes and dreams for ourselves and our boys. Settling into the rhythm of the run, we talked through the ups and downs of the suspension bridge. We took in the Manhattan skyline set out before us, and the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor to the left. Also on the bridge were walkers, runners, and cyclists of all sizes, shapes, colors, and ages. What a portrait of America, so apt for the day. We breathed deeply at the turnaround in Manhattan, ready to run up the rise of the bridge and head back to our family in Brooklyn. It was, after all, the birth of our neice and nephew less than three weeks ago, that prompted our holiday visit to New York.

For the blessings of new babies, family, good health, and the hopes and dreams central to being American, we are grateful.

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