This year wasn’t easy in our household. Money was tight. The political climate felt hostile—especially toward my family. There were two breakups, both raw. It would have been easy to let gratitude get lost in the haze of hardship. But I’m determined to look back on the past twelve months with a lens of thankfulness. Here’s what I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving Eve.

Family

The past few Christmases, we’ve escaped to the beach with our best friends. After the election, those friends fled the country. I don’t blame them—sometimes I was tempted to join. But I have one daughter in her last year of high school, and two grown children I couldn’t leave behind. So, we stayed. We could have sunk into sadness without our oceanside yuletide, but we didn’t. We organized a Secret Santa, bought a live tree, opened our doors to family and friends, and made it work. It turned out to be the best Christmas yet.

Options

My youngest daughter is a bright, brave, beautiful transgender woman. For the past two years, she’s received care at UVA. In 2025, the university (briefly) announced they’d be suspending their program for teens, citing a presidential executive order.

There were a lot of tears and fears in our household. My 78-year-old father—an ally from day one—sprang into action. He called former colleagues at Duke and made sure Marcy could get care there. It wasn’t convenient (a three-hour drive each way). We missed school and work, but it was worth every mile. We got reassurance that her care would continue. And even better, we visited family—my brother and his wife in Durham, and their wonderful kids, Oscar and Vivien. They welcomed Marcy with love and acceptance. The kids gently corrected me when I slipped and used her dead name—kindly, if a little exasperated. It was a visit filled with validation. We had options, and we had acceptance. Win-win.

Reunion

Those best friends weren’t gone for long. When Justin’s job suffered under government cuts, they had to come home. Marcy and I made the trip for a much-needed reunion. Melissa (pictured) is the kind of friend who turns lemons into lemonade: her house was rented out, but she found a way to create home among the chaos. It was crowded, joyful, a little wild—just right. We left reminded that happiness is a choice.

Joy

Marcy went through her first heartbreak this year. It broke all our hearts to see her hurting.

She’d hoped to attend the American Shakespeare Center’s summer camp—two sessions, each $4,000. We weren’t sure we could afford both. But after her breakup, we got news: she’d won a full scholarship for the second session. At first, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. But we nudged her, and she went.

The camp photographer caught her joy after the first session—real, radiant, unguarded. By the end of summer, her heart had healed. She found new love at Shakespeare camp. She’s been smiling ever since. Her performance as Henry VI even caught the eye of Ralph Cohen, who sketched her—a rare honor.

This year was a good one—but only because we looked for the good, and claimed it. We have so much to be thankful for. If we can carry this gratitude into 2026, nothing can stop us.

Gratitude is its own kind of light. This year, we chased it—and found it, even in the dark.