What a difference a year can make. Last Thanksgiving, our younger daughter couldn’t come home from Philly because of Covid risks. We had a small celebration with our eldest, who lives only an hour away. But the holiday was overshadowed by all the uncertainty and infections and deaths wrought by the pandemic.
This year, we’re looking forward to all four of us being together on Thursday and to seeing extended family over the weekend. We’re all vaccinated and boosted, so I’m much more relaxed about it than I was last November.
So, of all that I’m grateful for this holiday—our family, dear friends, a nice home in a peaceful neighborhood, a supportive community, the ability to work for myself and pursue my own writing, relative good health despite scleroderma, and more—the thing I am most grateful for this Thanksgiving is the Covid vaccine.
It is an absolute miracle. It is worth the temporary side effects. It prevents serious illness. It saves lives. It has protected me for many months, now. I fear how I would have fared during the Delta wave this summer without it. As cases again surge in Europe and here in the U.S., primarily among those who are not vaccinated as colder weather drives us indoors, I profoundly hope that more people will realize the incredible gift of this scientifically sound and safe vaccine, and get protection for themselves and others around them.
This is my 500th post on Living with Scleroderma. I could never have imagined, when I started this blog on January 3, 2012, that I would be writing about surviving a global pandemic nearly ten years later. Just typing that sentence is mind-boggling. We can never know what is coming next. My hope for you, Dear Reader, is that you make the most of each and every day, whatever it brings—and bring your best to it. That’s really all that any of us can ever hope to do.
Be well, and happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate.
Image: Eric Tompkins