Being Grateful

When I woke up this morning I was going to write about a completely different topic, but when I walked into my kitchen and saw the sun streaming into my window, glittering on the water in Puget Sound, and filling my house with light, I felt so grateful for where I live, that I decided to go in a whole other direction. Last night I attended a farewell dinner for a friend; there was lots of laughter about aging, and all the things we forget, from names, to eye glasses, to necessary shopping items, which was a joy. One of the women is quite ill, although she still has a great sense of humor. Nevertheless, on the way home I knocked wood for my health. Aside from minor aches and pains, forgetfulness, and other signs of aging, the rest of me is holding up admirably. Pulling into my driveway and seeing my partner’s truck gave me such a feeling of safety and warmth: another fortunate part of my life. And then to awaken to the sun, a big deal to those of us who live in the Northwest this winter: perhaps being grateful for all of it should be the topic of the day. As I’ve said before, I have a very meaningful relationship with both of my grown daughters, who are doing well in their lives and are reasonably happy. I live with a man who is kind, gentle and loving–not perfect by any means, but a totally decent human being who not only helps people in need in our community, but helps me in the house on a daily basis without being asked. For someone of my generation that is a big deal. To top it off, he’s really smart, so we always have interesting discussions about issues of the day, which is what I thought I was going to write about this morning. Maybe next week for that. Then there are my grandsons, who video chatted with me this morning, big smiles on their faces when they saw me on their computer screen. Gus, the older boy, said he couldn’t remember my kitchen, so I took a walk with my laptop and heard his excited voice, “I remember now, Grandma!” I then showed the two-year old the ocean, with appreciative words I couldn’t understand, though his excited yelps were crystal clear. When my morning chores were done, I sat down at my desk to write this blog and answer email, with the prospect of returning to my new novel later in the day. Really, I have a very full and rich life, I thought, good health, loving family and friends, beauty of place, which is a hell of a lot to be grateful for. When the mess of the world gets to me, which it does almost daily, I try to remind myself of all of this. If I take the time, which I’m obviously doing today, my anxieties about rich vs. poor, possible war with Iran, injustice and the like recede and I’m able to feel truly grateful for the way my life has unfolded. This doesn’t mean I won’t raise my fist in protest anymore. But it does make bearing the burden of awareness much easier. Without sounding maudlin, I long ago realized it was important to list the things I need to be grateful for, and am usually amazed when I do at how good it makes me feel. I thought today I’d pass the idea along with the suggestion that anyone who reads this take the time today to do the same. It’s a great way to begin the week.