It's Thanksgiving Day, 2009. I'm in my armchair with a glass of sherry. My extraordinary wife is busily cooking and cheerfully gossiping with our houseguest, a young lady we have helped raise for the past decade.
I could never have imagined ten years ago just what an accomplished and poised young lady she would become. The credit for all that goes to my extraordinary wife.
I'm fifty-ish. A little over twenty years ago, I wasn't at all certain I'd live to see thirty-five, and wasn't even certain I wished to. (A long story, not worth telling, much less reading.) I wake up every day surprised and grateful to be alive, much less happily married and sipping sherry on Thanksgiving Day.
The list past that stretches past the horizon.
So, Happy Thanksgiving. The world seems to be in the charge of idiots, but the Potentate of Time trumps them all.
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