So on Thanksgiving Day, I remember and I am grateful. I am grateful for what I have learned about myself since the day I heard the diagnosis. Grateful for the surgeons and the nurses and my best friend from high school who insisted four years ago that I get my blood checked, just in case something was wrong.
There's been a lot of talk about how horrible it is that we grieve for France when we're not similarly frenzied about Beirut and others. On the one hand, that argument is totally right. Yes, we should mourn the deaths of innocent people wherever they are, in a far more balanced way than we do. All lives are equal, and all innocent deaths are tragic.