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Thanks

Sons playing a game, even if they’re misunderstanding the rules.
The beginnings of Thanksgiving meal’s mouth-watering scents coming from the kitchen.
Full hearts.
Hands in hands.
Wife and daughter, smiling and chatting like conspirators with pie.
A warm dog breathing on my knee, hunkered down. In, out. In, out.
My far-flung family, and newly arrived family, all precious gems.
The warmth of friendship, of laughter and more.
The sanctuary of home, with roof and walls that we own.
The security of being able to provide.
To work alongside of people who care, and care a lot.
The gift of creative thought, for opening universes.
The silent moment of om/amen and the possibilities within.

By J. Parrish Lewis

J. Parrish Lewis was born and raised in Maryland. In his youth there, he and his brother had many adventures in the dogwood forests near his home. His nostalgia for these adventures has strongly influenced his characters, their relationships, and their perspective on the world they inhabit. He moved to California’s coast to earn his degree in communications and now lives with his family in the San Joaquin Valley. Lewis is profoundly deaf and uses American Sign Language to communicate. He enjoys hazelnut coffee, captioned movies, and walking his dog.

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