First, I need to get something off of my chest:
I have never been one for the "let's go around the table and say what we're
thankful for" kind of thing at Thanksgiving, because I feel its an act of
performance.
Being thankful — and the things, people, events that people are thankful
for — should be a private matter. Making one list these items only invites
trouble, because "obligations" tend to intrude. Thoughts like, "I'd better
say I'm thankful that lush Uncle Jerry and tightwad Aunt Margaret made the
trip, because I'm seated right across from them."
I like my thankfulness unrehearsed and uncoerced. I don't want social
pressure to inform what I should or shouldn't say. Every time I've been
made to do this, I've tried to assemble my words as the people before
me were taking their turns. That's what makes this such an awful exercise.
I've spent the last few months not feeling very thankful. I lost a job
that I really loved; I lost a house and a neighborhood I really loved.
Selling the house ate through all of the savings I had left, and now I
have a massive tax bill because of the penalties. I was without work for
two months. All of this shattered my confidence and made me feel "less
than," despite none of it being my fault. My exercise and diet routine
was shot completely to bits — through a combination of change in routine,
losing my motivation, and stress. No, I'm not thankful for any of that.
At least, not yet.
Here's what I am thankful for: Through all of that amazing
awfulness, my wife and daughter and their love have kept my spirits fairly
buoyant, along with the friendship of others. I'm thankful for a new
employer who was willing to work with me to help me get back on my feet,
and I've been showing them a wealth of gratitude. I'm thankful I was able
to save my mother in law's life — that's hard for me to write — and I'm
thankful we're all getting along in this tiny house. I'm thankful our
daughter is doing so well in school, and of how proud she makes me. I'm
thankful for new friendships in unlikely places, and new pursuits. I'm
thankful I can cook for my family and still talk to my mother. I'm thankful
mom sold her place and moved into a care facility. I'm thankful for guidance
and for new experiences. No, my life is not what it was, but I feel
like I'm on the mend — and I'm very thankful for that.
I'm saying that, even in hard times, we can probably find things to
be thankful for. There's a lot about my life that has absolutely had me
down over the past couple of months. Someone once said, "it's not how
many times you get knocked down that counts. It's how many times you
get back up." These days, it's not hard to find somebody who has things
worse than you do. That exercise in itself is a measure of thankfulness.
A year ago this week, the neighborhood got together and spent a
couple of hours packing boxes and bags of food for people in need
in our community. I need to make time to do that more often. Because
it's one thing to be thankful for the blessings in your life. But to
BE a blessing in someone else's life is another thing entirely.
2018 UPDATE:
I read this post today, a year on. And I wanted to
share my thoughts. 2017 was a very difficult year. 2018 "ain't been no
picnic" either: Papa passed away in April; I moved the family down to
Texas for a job in the summer — I was $15K in the hole from moving
expenses and was making my first payment on a new mortgage when that company
started slashing jobs right and left, leaving me with a tremendous sense
of guilt for uprooting us all and putting us in this mess. It was a shame
I carried semiprivately for a while — despite picking up a contracting
job nearly right away. Despite all of this, I'm so very thankful for the
love and encouragement of my family to get me through.
We're lonely there - on its surface, it seems it would be difficult in
a city of eight million. I work among a hundreds of contractors from
overseas who prefer their native language over English at least. I've
been working there for two months and only one man among them has bothered
to acknowledge me enough for us to exchange pleasantries. (I have sort of
made friends with the barista downstairs, though.) Laurel has managed to
coerce a coworker to move up from Austin — she's so happy to have a friend
in town now. We're back "home" for the holiday week, and I've been reminded
of numerous connections we simply don't have where we live now. Facebook
isn't the same as being in the same room and laughing your faces off with
each other.
So right now, we have each other. And I don't think it's a stretch
to say that we're both so grateful for that. Without love, all of this
would be pointless.
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