I’m so bored with reading about people who are thankful for the stuff
that’s easy. It’s easy to sit around and dreamily think up universal, corny
sounding things to be thankful for (“I’m thankful for nature’s bounty,” or “I’m
thankful for the love of my children”) or worse, give someone else the credit
for what we have (I’m thankful to [insert favorite deity here], for bringing
[insert name of special person] into my life. Those drive me crazy. Are those
same people thanking their favorite deity for the first spouse he/she brought
into their life? The one who didn’t work out? Or that endless string of loser
boyfriends they almost married, but
didn’t, simply because not a single one asked them to? God gets the credit for
the winning moments, but not the crushing defeats? Who gets the credit for
that? Oh, I do? Then I’m taking the credit for the wins and the losses, thank you
very much. I’m thankful that I finally got my shit together enough to attract
the greatest man I’ve ever known. I did
that.)
But I digress.
I’m sure all of the “I’m thankful-for…” posts that people throw up on
Facebook are heartfelt, but are they real?
What I mean is, are they honest and
revealing? Are they representative of how we’re feeling on any given day
when we’re in the weeds of life, amid the confusion, frustration, anger and
resentment that knocks on our mental door all day long? Sure, these feelings
are fleeting, with a shelf-life of about two seconds, but that doesn’t make
them any less exhausting, which makes the moments when they are lifted from our
shoulders something we truly should feel gratitude for—right there in the
moment when it counts the most. Like, yesterday, for instance. My husband just
cut me off as I was merely suggesting things he can make the kids for lunch, on
the first day of Thanksgiving break. I was at my desk upstairs. He was downstairs
in the kitchen. I’m thankful for open floor plans, so that I can boss everyone
around while I’m busy working in my home office. Anyway, he cut me off! I was
just trying to point out that I went shopping and that there was plenty of soup in the cupboard that the kids requested, and leftover
breadsticks, and they don’t have to have the soup, because there’s also ham in
the fridge…
I was thankful, at that moment that he cut me off, right after I
finished my mental reaction, the one
with the F-bomb, that I have a husband who is not only capable of finding the
kitchen, but isn’t afraid to use it. I turned it into a positive, thankful
moment. Later, when I find out they had crackers and butter for lunch, I’ll be
thankful for duct tape as I finish reciting the entire contents of the cupboards and
the fridge to him, just like my mom taught me to do.
So today, when you go around the table stating things you’re thankful
for, don’t forget about the little things—the feelings of gratitude that bubble
up and prevent our brains from running out of our ears and pooling on the
carpet. While you’re at it, be honest. What are you really thankful for but afraid to admit out loud?
I’ll go first.
I’m thankful that murder is frowned upon in our society, to the extent
that I’d have to spend the rest of my life in prison if I acted on impulse and offed
one of my kids. Sometimes, that’s all that’s standing between me, a heavy
frying pan, and the back of one of my kids’ noggins. Like, just yesterday, my
15-year old son was resisting the fact that he had to address the envelopes for
the thank-you notes he has yet to send out for the gifts he received on his
birthday three weeks ago. Among the questions he asked me were:
1. How do you do this?
2. Where does the address go?
3. What’s Grandpa’s last name?
At that moment, I was thankful for the death penalty, (see paragraph
above) but I was mostly thankful that he is the kind of kid who, once presented
with an alternate option (“Write the freakin’ thank you notes today or send
back the birthday money) immediately sees the error of his ways and complies,
complete with a heartfelt, “I’m sorry mom.”
I am always thankful for solitude. On any given day, especially right
before I cook dinner, I am thankful that they’re all at basketball practice, or busy setting the dog on fire and can’t talk to me while I’m
reading a recipe.
I’m thankful right at this moment while I’m writing this that it’s not
even noon and my husband has cracked a beer because his brother told him via
text that it’s ok to do so. I’m thankful I don’t have to carry around a bunch of
guilt for sneaking some Irish into my coffee this morning.
I’m constantly thanking the unknown force in the universe that makes
working from home a reality. In my pajamas recently, I was thankful that I
could hit the sack during a conference call with my boss and not have any
explaining to do. And that very same day, I was thankful that the co-worker I
was instant messaging couldn’t see me rolling my eyes at her dumb idea. And
almost every day I’m thankful for the ‘microphone mute’ button that allows me
to pee during a company meeting, when I’m supposed to be listening to someone
talk about something I don’t really understand or give a shit about anyway.
Being thankful is easy when you have time to reflect, and/or want to
impress others with gratitude platitudes like, “I’m thankful for
freedom” or “I’m thankful for the food on this table.” Yawn. Try it at the
dinner table today: Share your gratitude for the little things that keep us
sane, loving one another for another day, and out of prison.
