Belfast had it’s first snow on Sunday evening. I was at Mama Cheesehead’s for our weekly American Football watching party and in the midst of all the festivities (which included filling in Sad Eli’s thoughts about his hat and his favorite colors – but that’s for another post) we looked out the window to see snow falling. Of course pictures had to be taken.
Earlier that evening as we were on our way, Penny and I paused in front of the SU. “Let’s just look at the moon and the tree and the Lanyon Building and be thankful,” she said. It was beautiful and peaceful and wonderful and I was, indeed, thankful for my life here.
I fly home one week from tomorrow. Between now and then it’s supposed to snow almost every day here. The mornings are crisp and cool and conversations with everyone include “it’s so flipping baltic!” My days are plotted around where I think the warmest location is at any given time. But in the midst of being cold, I am thankful.
I am thankful I have found family here in surprising ways. I am thankful for new adventures and old ones, a new library to explore and a new institution to complain about. I am thankful for technology which allows me to stay connected to my other worlds and for times when I can switch that technology off and be fully present in this one.
I am deeply thankful for all of those things, but as I stood in front of the Lanyon Buliding that evening, the thing I was the most thankful for was my family back in the States who are counting sleeps with me, who are taking off from work to collect me at the airport, who assure me that my house is ready for Christmas and the only thing that’s missing is me. I am thankful that their dreams for me are bigger than mine for myself. I am also deeply thankful that it is only eight sleeps until I get to hug the Yardley contingent. Eight sleeps!
