roots // state of thankfulness: day three

Rich colors weave together bunching at my elbows as I push the plaid folds to release my hands to type. Warm flannel, more than we need in Southern California. It’s for comfort. The flannel found in urban outfitters can also be found up the stairs in my Dad’s closet. Most likely purchased before the last decade past.

I sift through a pile of items placed on my childhood bed. Things to toss, file or keep. Things from long ago. I’m thankful. I don’t know how much longer it will be like this. How much longer I will be able to come home and have “my room.” Intact. Together. Here. I’m blessed that at 26, it is so. Everything isn’t perfect or idyllic, but tonight, I’m thankful for the present.

The cat that follows me from room to room. The flannel from my father’s closet. Carpet beneath my feet. I’m thankful for my roots. The ones that have been torn up and the ones that are still deep in soil.

Being thankful tonight is being thankful for where I am now. Who I am today. How I have been shaped. And for being in a place that feels like home.

Accepting the present for what it is and loving the parts that have appropriately and lovingly changed. And for the parts that are harsh or unfamiliar.

Like the stump of a tree, there are circular lines on my heart telling a story of age, hardship and joy. Without one of those lines, it wouldn’t be today. It wouldn’t be present.

I’m thankful for tonight. While the family recipe brioche rolls rise in the kitchen. Thoughts of Thanksgivings spent in other places and family members no longer here. Rememberance of my roots and the loveliness it is to be home, a familiar place, where I can reach into another’s closet for comfort and rest my feet on the coffee table. I’m thankful to be here, now and present. Being thankful for the present means resting in peace.

What are you thankful for tonight, now?

*Photo taken on a trip in Carmel.