I remember one November
(I was in my early twenties, and
My father was still alive)
I met my parents out on the beach
At a Holiday Inn
For Thanksgiving Dinner
It was very cold:
Twelve degrees Fahrenheit
In Florida, standing next to
The Gulf of Mexico
12 degrees, sans “windchill”, mind you
Although the wind was blowing occasionally
I arrived about an hour early;
Enjoying having miles of coastline
Completely to myself,
As no one in their right mind
Would be out on the beach on
A day that cold
I had left my “right mind” at home
And I remember
Looking out at the shoals,
Or “The Sandbar” as we called it
Wondering how, on a day so freezing,
Anything could look so tropical
But also struggling to understand
Why I had no girlfriend
Why “everyone” seemed to be spending
Thanksgiving Day with families they had forged
As well as ones they had been born into –
Except me
But I loved that day
I loved how cold I felt
(It was painfully cold)
And I guess we begin
To truly understand
What it is to be thankful
When we’re even grateful
For the pain
