It is hard to believe Thanksgiving is almost upon us. But there it is, and my preparations continue. More lights went up yesterday. The poles flanking the front steps are now wrapped with lights, and the house side of the driveway is lit. All can be turned on with a flip of a switch in the house. There are now lights on the gate and running up the other side of the driveway. I will finish those this morning, and they will be powered by a timer. Some of the big trees will be lit by red and green spotlights, and icicle lights will go into selected spots over the drive, taking advantage of the Spanish moss for a final bit of magic.

In the end, however, it won’t be enough because it never is. I’ve done this for years of subdivision dwelling. All our houses have been lit, and when I’m done, I always think, I could have done better. But I suspect that’s simply part of my genetic makeup. Finish a story. I could have done better. Be someone’s friend. I could have done better. Raise three kids. I could have done better. Have a long marriage. I could have done better.

Some would say that’s continuous improvement. Do something. Evaluate it. Make changes. Do it better. Just once, however, I’d like to get something right. But perhaps the willingness to learn is the something right. It’s hard to say, but it’s gotten me a good way along the path of life, so if it’s not broke don’t fix it. And maybe the next thing I need to learn is to stop second guessing myself, especially if I’d doing the best I can, with the best of intentions. That’s a thought. Maybe that will calm my troubled mind.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale