The thanks part of Thanksgiving
On Thanksgiving afternoon 15 years ago, my wife, Cheryl, gave birth to our twin sons, Ross and Ben. We added Will in 1999. The years fly by faster and faster, but the appreciation we have for our family is as fresh today as it was then. In what has become a Thanksgiving tradition for me, I ask your indulgence as I fill you in on a few things we have been thankful for since last Thanksgiving.
We are thankful for:
The way Ross, Ben and Will truly knew how to fully appreciate their Uncle Bill, who died in August at age 48 of bile-duct cancer.
The way all three boys would deliver comforting hugs and kind words out of the blue as we struggled with Bill's fatal illness.
The way Ben echoes Bill's passion for music, Ross has Bill's appreciation for films and Will inherited a love of Bill's funny stories and fun times.
The interest in jazz that saw Will ask for saxophone lessons, Ben nail his piano part when his quartet played at the Jazz Showcase in Chicago, and Ross suggest that Maggie, our new cat, should have been named Ella Fitzgerald.
The way Will's soccer coach had to urge him to pass up some of those assists to score goals.
The videos and movies that Ross spends hours writing, directing, filming and editing.
The good kind of sore I feel after competitive Nerf basketball games in Will's bedroom.
Ben's internship at the Field Museum, and the way his teenage grunts always evolve into real conversations on the ride home.
The way our boys' violent video games and movies never spill over into our family lives.
The way yelling about lights left on and chores not done remind me how lucky I am to be a father of three boys with nothing worse to complain about than lights left on and chores not done.
Visits to the farm and Grandma Lois, and overnights at Grandpa Paul's and Grandma Jean's.
The way Ross and Ben assured us that the high school homecoming dance with corsages and girlfriends wasn't a big deal like it was when we were kids.
Will's blunt assessments of his baseball, soccer and basketball skills and weaknesses in the same honest way his Grandpa Willy used to.
Aunts and uncles and cousins.
Harry Potter, for allowing all five us of the chance to watch the same movie at the same time in the same theater as one big happy family.
The way Ross cares about his friends and always wants to help.
The self-sufficient nature that allows Will to get separated from the pack on a ski run in Colorado with no cell phone and calmly figure out how to take the two ski lifts needed to reconnect with the family.
The realization that all our kids have really nice friends.
The new basement room that lets those kids hang at our house.
The way my summer trip to Austin with my brother made our boys realize the lifelong bond of being brothers.
Our mini-vacation at the Rock and Rock Hall of Fame, which showed us that our boys really do know more than their parents about David Bowie, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and other performers from my youth.
The way our boys wanted a cat, and the way Cheryl babies Maggie, even though she lost her bid to name our pet Jolie, which is French for pretty.
The way my beautiful wife showed her usual grace, humor, compassion and love while suffering through the worst 50th birthday observance ever during the last week of my brother's life.
The understanding that we really don't care how long our boys' hair gets but still were relieved for the haircuts they got the day before the accompanying photograph.
This list can't possibly contain all our thanks. We hope you and your loved ones can compose a similar cornucopia of thanks.