I guess I never knew I could cook. I mean, really cook. Sure I can make a good dinner for two...but I never knew I had it in me to make something gourmet - and enjoy it! But I discovered this past Wednesday, as I made homemade roasted pumpkin soup for Thanksgiving at the Spence home, that I have the knack. I even improvised a bit with spices and some ingredients and I must say, it was good soup! I think my favorite part was the garnish - a mini-dollop of sour cream, toasted pumpkin seeds and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Everyone said it was tasty and all the bowls were licked clean!

The rest of the meal was delicious. The turkey looked so good, I even had some of it - a little ironic, if you ask me, that after finding out that the boy doesn't like vegetarians, I went and ate some turkey. Totally unrelated events but funny how that sort of thing happens.

I volunteered earlier in the day and as usual, it made me sad to see so very many people without their families, many of them clearly addicts. The guests at the food program were almost entirely men, something I had not noticed in the past. There was one guy there, he couldn't have been a day over 17. He seemed so tripped out, with pock marks all over his face and utter vacancy in his clear blue eyes. I had to look away. I don't know what, if anything, that says about me. But it did make me so sad and the last thing I wanted to do was feel sorry for these people. Certainly they don't need or want my pity. They have pride just like the rest of us and the last thing they probably want is to see judgment in my eyes when I look at them, even if my judgment comes from a place of love and compassion.

At first I felt some liberal guilt - there I was volunteering at a food program, making sure to leave in time to get home, shower and drive to Mill Valley for my own Thanksgiving feast, full of the warmth and protection of my closest friends. But the guilt does not do anyone any good. And soon my guilt turned to gratitude. Gratitude for the life I do have and the fact that I can do a small part (and I know how small it is) to help people have a decent holiday meal - people who might otherwise not have a meal at all. Gratitude that my mother raised me in such a way to know that doing service in the community is a crucial part of being part of that community - even if she doesn't know she did that. And though we did not go around the dinner table and each recite the things for which we are most grateful, I said them silently to myself: I am grateful for my health and the health of my familiy. I am grateful that I have been blessed with a best friend that is also my sister, with an unwavering ally and teacher that is also my mother and with the watchful eyes of my guardian angel and grandma. I am grateful to always know - to really feel - the love of my family and friends. I am especially grateful for the friends who have supported me for the past two years, some of the hardest days in my short existence on this planet; these are the friends with whom I am completely free to be myself and also the ones that really know the essence of me. I am grateful for the intellect with which I have been blessed. I am grateful that I have the use of all my limbs and that I have learned to make sure to use them! I am grateful that I have been able to spend the better part of the last two years really getting to understand myself and even more grateful that I finally feel that I am again ready to share the best parts of me (beyond my safe circle of family and my closest friends) - pieces of Marcy that were hidden under a veil of pain and fear for far too long.