Last Christmas marked the first year that my family began our “no-presents” tradition. We had attempted to veer from gift-giving for several years, but guilt and habit led us to continuous failures. We always felt our loved ones should open something on Christmas morning. Last year, we broke our habits. We celebrated Christmas present-less. And it was one of the most meaningful Christmas mornings I remember.

This year – round two – came easily and naturally. Instead of running madly through the malls on a frenzied present hunt, we spent the days preceding Christmas sleeping late, baking cookies and lounging in sweatpants. We prepared for a day traditionally meant for spending time with family and friends by doing just that – relaxing with family and friends.

I have a decorative glass jar that sits in my kitchen. This jar holds corks from open wine bottles I have shared among friends. Each time we open a bottle, I drop another cork into the jar. When I moved to Chicago two years ago, I sent myself on a mission to find people who would be my close friends – my Chicago “group.” I always had a tight-knit group wherever I lived, and I wanted my new Chicago home to a provide a similar type of friend-family. Now, just a few short days before I venture away from my beloved city, I gaze onto my nearly full cork jar and realize I found it…I found myself a Chicago family.

Exactly five years and one month ago, nine college graduates sat on cinder blocks outside their empty campus townhouse. After loading cars, turning in their keys and realizing the four years of parties, roommates and little sleep had come to an end the stillness hit. “We’re homeless…” is all anyone could think to say.

This weekend, those nine girls returned to their cherished university for the first milestone reunion since graduating. St. Bonaventure, or “Bonas” as we call it, is a small private school resting amidst the

I have developed an increased understanding in recent years as to why women join book clubs. When I was younger, I thought women got married, lost all their friends and realized later they should not have spent so much time with their husbands and needed to find new friends. Instead, it has come to my attention that no matter the status of a woman’s career, relationships or lifestyle, she needs women in her life for the simple, yet critical reason of maintaining sanity on earth.

Sneakers, June 2007

I was in first grade when I experienced the death of my first pet. Runt was a golden retriever/german shepherd mix who my mother saved from euthanasia as a puppy. My mom refused to let someone kill an animal simply for being the runt of a litter, so she snuck Runt back to her apartment in a beer box and gave him a good home for 14 healthy years. The morning my parents had Runt put down, they told my younger siblings and I he died of old age in the vet’s office waiting room. It seemed a more peaceful and understandable story to tell children.

With the world spinning continuously faster and the distance between families becoming greater, I have found it both refreshing and rare to have a day when I can just “be” with those I love. Perhaps that is why the older I get, the more I enjoy Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is not a religious holiday, nor is it one that focuses on presents, costumes or wowing neighbors and visitors with festive decorations. Instead, Thanksgiving is intended for people to come together and give thanks – a simple act that has become increasingly difficult as the pace of life has quickened over the years.