Gratefulness is not coming easily for me this year. After the most painful, sad, and difficult two years of my life, I do not find much to give thanks for on this Thanksgiving Day. I hate to admit this, but I would like to skip over the holidays completely — just hide safely under the covers until the last stale Christmas cookie has been eaten and the final errant pine needle has been sucked up into the Hoover.
But because I am an adult with responsibilities, this is hardly the mature thing to do. I have to get through the next six weeks with some semblance of normalcy, which in my case will involve not bursting into tears whenever I hear a sad Christmas song before running away to Key West, where I will watch the sunset every night while sipping Key lime iced tea. I must actively search for ways to be grateful, even if I have to resort to simple things like the fact that I can still breathe and dress myself. Maybe if I just start there: that even though life has thrown some tough things at me this year, I can strive to be grateful anyway. So here goes. The question is, just what am I grateful for?
I am grateful for my family. Yes, I am missing my dad. Desperately. The rawness of his death has not diminished during the past two years. I am told that in time it will, but for now I feel the shock of it anew every time I realize that he is no longer here. I am also missing my mom, who passed away just seven months ago. But there are family members who were so present, warm, and loving towards me immediately after both my dad’s and mom's deaths that gratitude is simply too weak to describe what I feel for them. They provided the voice of calm reassurance. They hugged. They cried with me. They listened. They simply cared. Relatives from far away were there as well. One cousin and her husband, who just happened to be visiting New Hampshire from her home in Florida, drove five hours each way to honor her uncle (my dad) and comfort us. Another caring relative got out of an essential duty to be at my dad's funeral. He did it out of pure love. Other relatives emailed and called and provided love and comfort across the miles. I am grateful.
I am grateful for my friends. I don’t have many friends that I consider close, but the ones I have are more precious than anything. Experiences such as a death definitely show you who your friends truly are. Friends texted and emailed and called daily to check on me. A friend I have adopted as a ”brother” drove three hours round trip to attend both of my parents' funerals — people he never met — to be there for me and for Bill. Friends that were unable to be there physically were always in touch to let me know their thoughts and love were with me. These are my true friends. These are the friends I know I can count on. Always. I am grateful.
I am grateful for my husband Bill. He came home from a fishing trip in Alaska and didn’t even get his foot in the door before hearing that his father-in-law was gone. He dropped everything — literally — and we got on with the business of planning what to do next. But even before that, he was the one who took care of everything for my dad financially. He was a wonderful son-in-law to my dad and they had a wonderful bond. Bill was with me every step of the way with my mom as well. We visited her every single weekend at her assisted living facility and then, when she became ill very quickly, drove with me every evening after school — 45 minutes each way — to visit my mom. He is my rock, my best friend, the love of my life, and the one whose shoulder may never be dry again from the tears I have shed upon it. But still he remains. Biscuit-loving, cat daddy, best husband ever. I am grateful.
As I am writing this I am suddenly struck by what I am most grateful for on this difficult Thanksgiving. Most of all, I am grateful for the 52 years I had with my dad ant the 54 years I had with my mom. Not everyone receives this precious gift of time. Some parents are gone much too soon. I know how blessed I was to have them so long. But it isn’t just time to which I am referring. I had the gift of 52 years with my dad. Fifty-two years of his kindness, his gentle spirit, his patience, his steadfast presence in my life. He taught my brother and me so many things, both practical and personal. We learned to hammer nails and shoot a gun. We learned to keep your word no matter what and we learned to mix cement. We learned that the simple things are the best things: raisin cake, rice pudding, a NASCAR race, time with your children, and doing your best. Always, always doing your best. I am grateful. And from my mom I saw creativity in every corner of our house
So that’s it then. Right now, my life isn’t what I want it to be. It’s difficult, it’s painful, it’s frustrating, it’s downright depressing. But I still have breath, I still have hair to comb (unruly hair, but hair nonetheless), I still have a husband and a cat and lots of love surrounding me. No, it’s not the best of Thanksgivings. But I will just have to do the best I can. And be grateful anyway.
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