Sometimes the thankful gets buried under an avalanche of the…other stuff. The worries, the concerns, the humdrum, the fury.

Recently, for me, it’s been a lot of fury. Make no mistake, I’m thankful for the fury. It’s protected my heart against the onslaught of grief which is no doubt coming. It acts as a buffer until my spirit is ready to put one foot in front of the other. The rage acts as a middle woman between yesterday and tomorrow.

But fury takes its toll. It sucks you dry like a vampire leaching blood. I’ve been here before. When you eventually come limping into port, spent and sputtering, it is scary as hell. What you need is someone to help guide you in. Someone who will catch your elbow as you stumble ashore. Hero to Leander rowing across a sea of emotion.

My husband and I met on Thanksgiving. Over nineteen years the story–our…