I know it's after Thanksgiving. I'm grateful; I promise. Sometimes it takes a heavy blow to be grateful. Other times a soft word.
"Happy Thanksgiving!" my youngest said to me when we woke up him Thursday morning. His words were simple. Said by everyone. I decided to share the sentiment when we ate at Einstein's that afternoon.
"Thank you, and Happy Thanksgiving!" my husband and I called on our way out. It was nice of them to stay open for a few hours on Thanksgiving Day, after all. The day was busy. Filled with family. We sent GIF's to our friends. The day was exhausting. That night, around 7:30, we were finally home and sitting at our own table with our own turkey. My youngest said we should go around the table and say what we were grateful for. But my husband had one caveat:
"Something besides family," he said, wanting them to stretch their brains. "We all know we're grateful for each other. Think of something else."
The youngest still struggled to not say he was thankful for his brothers. Such a good kid. Everyone else said something good, too. I went last, and when I did, I knew what I was going to say.
"I'm thankful for my bed," I said, and I laughed. The kids laughed too. But I was totally serious.
Several years ago - heck, maybe even a decade ago - I found myself really struggling to be grateful. I loved my family, sure. I loved my husband and everything he did for me. But that's about where my gratitude ended. How sad for me. I didn't understand the magnitude of what I'd been blessed with. All my life, I'd taken for granted the simple blessings of my life. I wasn't a spoiled child, but I didn't understand how lucky I was. I had two loving parents who took care of me until I married my husband and moved out when I was 20. They provided shelter for me, gave me food, and made sure I had a comfortable place to sleep every night.
My epiphany came in a moment of despair. I was kneeling by my couch, suffocating with the weight of life. That was when it hit me. I started listing things in my head.
"I am grateful for this couch to lean against. I'm grateful for carpet, and pillows, and sheets and blankets. I'm grateful for warm socks and a pair of good shoes. Shirts. Pants. Underwear. A dishwasher. A washing machine and a dryer. The mountains. Living a mile from a beautiful hiking trail." I went on and on, and I sobbed. I cried my eyes out. I had never been beaten. I had grown up in an incredibly loving extended family. I had aunts that were like seconds moms. I had protective uncles. I had friends - so many friends over the years. I had three kids who loved me and thought the world of me. I had a husband. Oh yes, he's marvelous. He supported me and loved me even when I was stupid, when I acted smaller and littler than I should have. Guys, he is the best. Really.
This year I'm returning to my basics. I am thankful. I love being a mom and am grateful for what I've learned. I love being a wife and am grateful for forgiveness. I don't particularly enjoy hard times, but I have learned a lot from them and am grateful I had my husband to lift me up and help me through those difficult moments. I'm also incredibly grateful that I have people to share my happy moments with. I could never do this life without them.
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| From Five Real Moms |
"Thank you, and Happy Thanksgiving!" my husband and I called on our way out. It was nice of them to stay open for a few hours on Thanksgiving Day, after all. The day was busy. Filled with family. We sent GIF's to our friends. The day was exhausting. That night, around 7:30, we were finally home and sitting at our own table with our own turkey. My youngest said we should go around the table and say what we were grateful for. But my husband had one caveat:
"Something besides family," he said, wanting them to stretch their brains. "We all know we're grateful for each other. Think of something else."
The youngest still struggled to not say he was thankful for his brothers. Such a good kid. Everyone else said something good, too. I went last, and when I did, I knew what I was going to say.
Several years ago - heck, maybe even a decade ago - I found myself really struggling to be grateful. I loved my family, sure. I loved my husband and everything he did for me. But that's about where my gratitude ended. How sad for me. I didn't understand the magnitude of what I'd been blessed with. All my life, I'd taken for granted the simple blessings of my life. I wasn't a spoiled child, but I didn't understand how lucky I was. I had two loving parents who took care of me until I married my husband and moved out when I was 20. They provided shelter for me, gave me food, and made sure I had a comfortable place to sleep every night.
My epiphany came in a moment of despair. I was kneeling by my couch, suffocating with the weight of life. That was when it hit me. I started listing things in my head.
"I am grateful for this couch to lean against. I'm grateful for carpet, and pillows, and sheets and blankets. I'm grateful for warm socks and a pair of good shoes. Shirts. Pants. Underwear. A dishwasher. A washing machine and a dryer. The mountains. Living a mile from a beautiful hiking trail." I went on and on, and I sobbed. I cried my eyes out. I had never been beaten. I had grown up in an incredibly loving extended family. I had aunts that were like seconds moms. I had protective uncles. I had friends - so many friends over the years. I had three kids who loved me and thought the world of me. I had a husband. Oh yes, he's marvelous. He supported me and loved me even when I was stupid, when I acted smaller and littler than I should have. Guys, he is the best. Really.
This year I'm returning to my basics. I am thankful. I love being a mom and am grateful for what I've learned. I love being a wife and am grateful for forgiveness. I don't particularly enjoy hard times, but I have learned a lot from them and am grateful I had my husband to lift me up and help me through those difficult moments. I'm also incredibly grateful that I have people to share my happy moments with. I could never do this life without them.
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