On this Thanksgiving, I am an American who is flat-out awash in gratitude.

It’s a visceral feeling, a toe-tingling twang through mind, body, and spirit. And what I’m most grateful for is that today is so much like yesterday was and tomorrow will be: pretty durn normal. Today, so far, has been productive and pleasant. I’ve given and gotten a few hugs, done a little work and a little cooking, and—so-far—been able to shoo away those pesky Devilettes (with names like Resentment, Annoyance and Jealousy) before they’ve had time to sink their claws into my psyche.

I just want to say that you old-timers were right, when you told me all those years ago that if I didn’t drink and went to meetings, everything would get better. Once in a while I still try to figure out how my screw-up life got to be so good, but most of the time I just enjoy it. As Van Morrison put it so well: It ain’t why, why, why, why, why; it just is.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Feast well on sobriety!