It's Thanksgiving: truce. Today's a sad one for me, because last year's Thanksgiving was John's last - he died ten days later. But true to his spirit, he kept up his cheer, and was incredibly proud and happy that we dined on a fabulous heritage turkey he'd brought for the meal (purchased by him out of the funds you generous readers provided, so thank you, again; he was hugely touched and buoyed by your expressions of concern and hope over the months of his sickness). John was too ill to eat that day, yet that was unimportant; we were all together, and he was strong, which helped his parents at least pretend to be.
The picture above was taken on Telluride's Bear Creek Falls Trail in August, 2014, after his diagnosis but before he'd lost the strength to make such climbs. I'd gone out to Telluride to help him move home to Maine, and it was the beginning of a 14-month healing process between father and boy, a grace I will always be thankful for, Together we listened to this Steve Earle song Pilgrim, several times, and his sister Kate sang it at his memorial service. I believe it sums up his life and his attitude and approach to life, and his impending death.
So I hope you all have a blessed day today, one free from rancor and disputations: plenty of time for all that tomorrow.