Skip to main content

Giving Thanks



   I am thankful that I have a stove to cook Thanksgiving dinner on; I’m not thankful that I have to wake up at 6 a.m. on a day off to put a turkey in the oven.
   I am thankful that my legs still carry me into the kitchen, even though they rub together when I walk.
   I am thankful that my husband did the last minute shopping tonight for Thanksgiving dinner; I am not thankful that he will probably not obsess over the meal like I will tomorrow.
   I am thankful that there is an entire day devoted to eating; I am not thankful that I will have to do extra time on the elliptical to erase the consequences of this day.
   I am thankful for new friends we’ve made in our new community; I am not thankful that I miss my old friends like crazy.
   I am thankful that I live in a place where food is in abundance; sometimes I’m not grateful that there’s so much abundance.
   I am thankful that our ancestors took time to express their appreciation; I’m not so thankful that I forget to be appreciative much of the time.
   I am thankful to be able to share these words; I am not thankful that so many others cannot do the same.
   I am thankful that my parents put on a Thanksgiving dinner to emulate every year; I am not so grateful that they aren’t here to share ours.
   I am grateful for the love I feel every day in my life; I am not grateful for the hate and fear in the world that lives alongside this love.
   I am thankful for a merciful God who knows us all; I am not grateful that his message slips away so easily.
   Most of all I am grateful to express thanks for all the gifts I’ve received, seen and unseen; I am not grateful for the ingratitude that pervades so many of my days.
   Thanks.

The roots of all goodness lie in the soil of appreciation for goodness.  - Dalai Lama

Comments

Deb said…
I'm thankful to still feel connected to you through your fine writing. I'm NOT thankful that I can't just walk down the street to your house to see you.

Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy your day, and if you happen to overeat a bit, then just pretend we're marching our asses down to the railroad tracks and WALK, WALK, WALK.

Popular posts from this blog

He sells sea shells, I wish

   So now rather than being obsessed with fake fingernails I can’t afford, I’m becoming obsessed with checking this blog. I’m pretty sure all 52 views were made by either me or my husband.   That leads me right into the current situation at hand. We need friends. We’re desperate for them. I’ve started handing out my telephone number to people I meet while doing my meager freelance work. They think it’s for the story I’m writing but really it’s in hope that someday they’ll find a reason to call and then I can hit them with, “By the way, do you play cards? Bingo? Gin Rummy?” If I wasn’t so arthritic I’d throw Twister in there.    It’s not so much for me, it’s my husband who likes to have people around. I have become hermit-like since moving here while he has become convinced we could die here and not be found for months. He had friends back in Syracuse but he chose to stay home at night with his loving wife. Now all of a sudden I get the impression he’d hightail it out of here a

Splitting Hairs

    I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned my hair a few times. I think we need to delve into it a bit further. You see, when it takes a $200 trip off-Island to get a haircut, or new underpants for that matter, you take a haircut seriously. Besides, when you’ve got the broad shoulders and the wide hips, you rely on your hair as a sort of aphrodisiac, if you know what I mean.                 I’ve been thinking about a haircut for about 8 months now. Did I mention life chugs along pretty slowly around these parts, giving me plenty of time for watching paint dry or the grass grow? Anyhow, I came to the decision that I should go ahead and do it even though more than one woman here told me she left her last appointment at the hair salon in tears. Hey, it takes more than a crappy haircut for me to turn on the waterworks. And naturally I consider tears over a haircut pretty much wasted. There are so many other crappy things to cry over, so I try to save my tears for things that have a heartbea

Life of the Party

   So I picked out my funeral music years ago. It features Steppenwolf in the forefront. I'm pretty sure I can think of some Syracuse priests who would bend a couple of rules and blast some Magic Carpet Ride for me. Believe me, they've done worse. That's why I love them. Anywho, I do spend more than a little time thinking about how I'd like my "after party" to play out. I'm nothing if not morbid. These things are important to me.    First of all, I want a kegger. Absofuckinglutely. And I want there to be all manner of food just like I like it. Huge portions, bottomless red plastic cups. You get the picture. The music is key and must include Steppenwolf, a fantastic Motown medley, Mony Mony, maybe a Monkees song, a little Led Zeppelin and definitely some Levon Helm. And if there's time left and people are feeling sappy, a couple of Van Morrison songs. I'm thinking as I write this that I want to go to this party. Jeez.    And you know I'll be t