Thanksgiving. It's been a long, strange year since last Thanksgiving, but here I am, on Thanksgiving, thankful for sunshine.
It was last Thanksgiving that the idea of moving to Florida was first floated. The pieces just fell into place. We were in the process of selling our business; my husband had already had the first meeting with the company that eventually bought us out. Our dog -- a heavyweight, heat-hating rottweiler -- had gone to the cool tile floor in the sky just two months before. And my father-in-law, on his Thanksgiving visit to DC, made us an incredible offer on the condo that he just couldn't sell in the terrible Florida real estate market. I wanted to do it. I wanted to move to the beach. But I was afraid to hope that it would actually happen.
Yet here I am, one year later. In Florida. Grateful for year-round sunshine.
I have a lot to be thankful for... honestly, I'm ashamed to list out all the things on my gratitude list, not now, when everywhere I'm hearing about lost homes and lost jobs and investments turned to dust. We've had a great year, we've been blessed with prosperity. It might be temporary -- who knows? -- or it might be a stepping stone to greater things. I am thankful, but it feels beyond wrong to dwell on material things when so many people are hurting.
Honestly, though, when I think about what I am most grateful for now, it's the sunshine. Every time I walk outside and feel the sun on my arms, it feels like a benediction. It warms not just my skin but my soul. It makes me happy. And though the air is cooler now, and the gulf waters are too chilly to dive into, I know the sun isn't going anywhere. This is, after all, the Sunshine State. The dark days of winter aren't dark here. The future, literally, looks bright.