It's almost Thanksgiving. I've been thinking a lot about that -- thanksgiving, not just the holiday at which we celebrate it -- lately. Seems like every morning the clock-radio wakes me, some newscaster is bemoaning the stock market's consistent slide, the automakers' imminent collapse, global disaster ensuing: LIFE AS WE KNOW IT IS OVER! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!! News at 6. If foreclosure doesn't find us, global warming will. If we don't stop eating, we'll die early deaths. Red wine makes us fat and drunk, but happy and cancer-free. Huh? I'm all confused. I don't know what to be afraid of anymore. It's just. Too. Much.
There's been a mutiny, and we just refuse to be thankful for what we have. Not "have in comparison to someone else" but "have," period.So, I'm retreating from all of this. Instead of focusing on everything that's gonna drive me to an early grave or send me to hell in that handbasket I'm so fond of, I'm honing in on what I have, and what I'm thankful for.
For starters: So far I have a roof over my head and a comfortable mattress. That's all good. I'm sort of creaky and have brittle fingernails, but I'm not too wrinkly and have all my teeth. That's good, too. I have health -- a gift for which I can give thanks every day. I have people in my life who love me and show me, in small but touching ways, that I am important to them: My husband, for example, doesn't get irritated about my crashing around in the kitchen or starting up the washing machine or even running the vacuum before he wakes up in the morning. He knows I'm a neat freak and doesn't complain about it, just lets me do my thing.
I have a car with good brakes and a house with three working furnaces (well, one's for the garage, and one's for the workshop). I have terrific neighbors, including a wonderful public high school right across the street from my house. I enjoy watching the kids come and go to school and especially like the nice big scoreboard (I can see that when I'm doing dishes) when the girls play softball. I can see the horizon from my deck, my own version of wide-open spaces in the heart of suburbia. Sometimes, I can see fireworks displays from other cities there. It's very cool.
I have a tree in my yard that has to be 100 years old. Isn't that amazing? And my crysanthemums keep coming back year after year. A miracle.
I am thankful for the view outside my office windows, the words on my bookshelf, and the Internet. And that is not all, no. That is not all. What makes you thankful? Share the bounty.