What I'm Truly Thankful For

It's November and my Facebook News Feed is filled with wonderful messages of daily gratitude that my friends have shared.  I love reading these messages and I am ultimately jealous because I will never be so on top of things to post a positive tribute each and every day.  I'd be the one with multiple bullet points or numbers, struggling to catch up to the current calendar day of thanks.

And so it got me thinking.  What am I genuinely happy and thankful for?  What is the essential element that we all reference in our own words of specific thanks and gratitude?

LIFE.  I'll say it again: LIFE.

This crazy, wacky roller coaster we are on with its unexpected turns, the highs and lows, the seemingly endless black tunnels that eventually open up to a burst of brightly colored images whirling past us at a breakneck speed.  We can't possibly take in all of the details that are constantly hurled at our overwhelmed senses.

I was thinking about a new life that recently entered into my own family and that, in turn, caused me to remember the ones that have also left my family.  It's a balance.  Life marches on.  My young son noticed the strong connection between death and new life, especially since the passing of both grandfathers was soon followed by the birth of a new cousin.  I am so grateful to welcome a sweet, pure soul to my family, my community, and to this world.

What would I teach this new person?  First, this is not The Game of Life.  We don't all start out with a fair share of the money, with a guarantee of a job or salary.  You may stumble upon more of life's pitfalls than some.  You should be thankful for all of the gifts you are given along the way.  You should always support those who are closest to you.  Who else is guaranteed to be there for you besides your family?  My parents are both gone.  It's just me and my two brothers and our growing families.  That's really what it boils down to.  In my spin around the gameboard I've been lucky to assemble a cheering squad of friends in my work and my community who I consider my extended family.  And of course, my own nuclear family and in-laws who support me all the time.

I used to be resentful of people who could not know my pain.  How could they be happy when one of my loved ones was no longer on this earth?  Why did their grandparents get to live longer than my mother?  Why did my grandmother, in her senility, get to outlive her own daughter?  She didn't even comprehend the loss.  Then I realized that I could not begrudge another person's happiness because of my own sense of loss.  New life demands a celebration.

I can't count how many times I have been present when an innocent life has slipped free of its earthly body, when a patient has finally given up the painful struggle.  I believe in angels.  I have to.
 
So many tiny eyes never get to witness the beauty of a butterfly's wings while others grow weary of the sight, distracted by artificial images of the world around them.

Photo credit: Life of David / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

So I say, to my new niece, to my children, to my friends and family: Go out and embrace LIFE.  Take it in, wonder at the good and the bad that it has to offer.  Look at everything as if through a child's eyes.  Do it for those little ones who will not be able to see it for themselves.  Do it for your own children, so that they can learn what it means to be grateful for what they have, even if it the thanks may be meager.  Teach happiness and love by example.

This November, I am grateful for this amazing journey LIFE has given me.

Send In The Clowns

I have always been an optimistic person.  A bit goofy perhaps, with a wry sense of humor.  It's how I look at the world.  Having boys is often like one big, long practical joke, but I have always chosen to perceive their antics in a humorous light.  When friends stress out or worry about something, I question, "Can you do anything to change the outcome?  If not, direct your energy somewhere else."  So, I am seen as light-hearted; naive even.  I like to laugh at the world, not drown in sorrow.

But today I wrestle with sadness, both my own and my family's.  My father-in-law passed away this morning after a quick, steep decline in health.  Actually, his health had been slowly getting worse over the past few years, but this roller coaster peaked in just the last month or so before plummeting swiftly into the abyss. We sat down with our boys and explained that Grandpa was dying only yesterday, so they are still processing everything.  My older son asked, "Why is life so cruel?"  But see, here's where you have to look at things from the optimist's perspective.  He lived a long and happy life.  He celebrated 44 years of marriage just last week.  He was able to see his five grandchildren and spend cherished times with each of them.  He traveled Europe when he was in his 20's, learning languages and drinking good beers.  (Which is why it always confused my husband that his dad chose to drink Michelob later in life.)  He retired from a job that he loved, created a wonderful home on property that dipped down to a river, and spent time doing things he enjoyed. He kept learning and taking classes just for the hell of it.  The man learned Arabic - just because.

When my own father passed away two years ago it was completely unexpected and a bitter surprise.  But I came to regard that as a positive thing.  I had seen him 2 days before, and left him with a hug after I told him I loved him.  He went so quickly that there was no hospital stay; no debates about his care.  I never had to juggle trips to a medical facility in between other obligations, struggle with the financial aspect of care, or feel resentment that a shell of a person only marginally resembled my dad.

Last year my nephew, wise beyond his years, surprised us with his take on life.  He looked around at family members who were crying after yet another loss and said, "Don't be sad for what is in Heaven.  Be happy for what you have here."  He was five at the time, but so astute.

So I choose to see the world in this light.  Bad things happen.  How do they shape us?  How do we deal with challenges and then present this affected persona to those around us?  I still want to stick with humor.  I've found it suits me well.  But if I'm not quite my usual self, you will hopefully understand.

When I was younger I received a music box as a gift - from my parents, I think.  It was a copper clown and it played "Send In The Clowns".  I had heard Judy Collins sing this over and over again from our state-of-the-art 8 track player and the melody haunted me.  I admit that I still don't fully understand the symbolism of the lyrics, but Stephen Sondheim explained it like this (I got this info from the always-correct Wikipedia):

It's a theater reference meaning "if the show isn't going well, let's send in the clowns"; 

in other words, "let's do the jokes."

After 9/11, after countless hours of depressing, frightening, overwhelming images of terror, shows such as Saturday Night Live struggled to find the balance between humor, reverence for the situation, and hope.  When can we go back to our regularly-scheduled program?  When will I be able to fall back on the inappropriate jokes that help me get through?  Time will tell.

For now, send in the clowns...  

Don't bother.  They're here. 

In Memory Of:

Thomas Nuelle - 1935 - 2013

Lew Thomas - 1933 - 2011

Bobbie Thomas - 1941 - 1993

Kerri Anne Thomas - 2012

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