It was Thanksgiving 1981, and since I was supposed to be thankful for what I had, I went down the list. I had: -A husband who’d just admitted to an ongoing affair    with a woman he wouldn’t give up. -A two month old son. -A completely uncertain future. -A body exhausted from stress, weeping  and nursing a newborn. -A broken, confused, disillusioned heart. -A mind ready to explode from the traffic going through it. -A holiday dinner to help prepare. -A charade to keep up in front of my family. Thankful? You're kidding, right? Continue Reading