I sat on the hard, wooden chair in an almost empty Starbucks, gulping down a pumpkin spice latte, eyeing the comfy chair in the corner, reviewing fiduciary duties, and trying to determine what I actually needed to know of Sarbanes-Oxley. The late hour would deter most people from caffeine, but the looming night-before-thanksgiving-drive brought a crowd to the drive-up window. As the evening wore on, I moved to the comfy chair in the corner, now vacated by the college students in sweatpants and uggs, telling stories of "wild" nights and name dropping types of alcohol. I had moved on to corporate take-over prevention strategies when the manager walked over and asked if I wanted the heat turned up. I politely said no, that I was fine, and he nicely ignored my polite response and turned the heat up. Two years ago, I was thankful for the kindness in the offer to turn up the heat.
Brooke and Andre hosted thanksgiving that year for those of us that were too far away and too swamped with work to travel home. Curry pumpkin soup, moist turkey, and all the trimmings covered the table. I devoured the home-cooked meal, curled up on the futon with a man who prefers men, and fell asleep before the blueberry pie. After dessert, dishes, and a second nap, Brooke sent me home with many hugs and left-overs. Two year ago, I was thankful for the love and care of close friends.
This year, I am thankful for thanksgivings at home with our families.
