For the trees. For the two older people in front of me who have lived to be old. For the sky, the beautiful sunset, the orange, the purples. For the twinkling lights of buildings. For arms that swing, legs that walk and run and jump. For an uncle who introduces the song Shanghai Breezes by John Denver to me and a cousin who mistakenly believes that I’m good at everything. For food at the table, for vegetables that taste like my grandmother cooked them (they’re the best), for air conditioning when I’m red in the face. For books to read, a room to retreat to.
For Your love, God, without which I would be hopeless. I remember the last time I thought I was done. I remember when I could barely be thankful. When I had done so much wrong I thought I couldn’t be forgiven. A way was cleared, a friendship saved, and I trust that all my tomorrows are Yours.