Thankful

Sunday was another brisk (but beautifully bright) windy, wintry day, so we congregated on the love seats around the fire as we made our yearly lists.  There’s always a bit of commotion among the males of the family when I tell everyone to gather and to bring their journals.  Callum can rarely find his without hints from me; Todd never knows where his is even though it’s always on his closet shelf.  (I must say, that was one of the best buys I ever made: a gift for him—with name engraved no less—back when we were freshmen in college.  It has lasted all these years with nary a scuff and several pages left for future musings.  And I like his wistful, reminiscent look as he reads pages from years and years ago. So endearing.)  But finally we all settle in.  Except no one (but Avery with her vintage fashion pouch full) has a pen.  Good grief.  It’s not like this is our first rodeo, we do this every single Thanksgiving.  And a lot of other Sundays. Finally, like half an hour after I suggest it, we’re ready. For the love.

It’s nothing fancy.  Super simple. No surprise there. We just take maybe ten minutes to list all the things that come to mind that we’re grateful for.  No order.  No prioritizing.  Just an emptying of our minds.  Callum and Bronwyn listed theirs in ABC order.  Todd had little paragraphs, fascinating.  I could only get through the past weekend before they started shifting in their couch seats.  But as I thought about the holiday upon us as I was kneading my bread this morning, I want to go back.  And add to my list.  And turn another page.  Because there’s so much more I’m thankful for.

Like our septic smell we lived with all summer.  Because now we know there’s a issue before it’s a super problem—yay! And I’m thrilled it can wait till next summer so we can save the $5,000 to replace it.

And our gravel driveway that turns to mud when it rains or snows.  Because it will propel us to make a cute little walkway (eventually).

That Todd put our Brittany Spaniel dog, Amber, down.  She was like 14 (we can’t remember) and fell down the stairs sometimes.  I had to lift her out of her crate in the mornings.  Although she was occasionally frisky and ran about in circles, most of the time she looked tired and gray and sore.  She sought us out when she needed a rub or a love, but mostly she slept in her crate.  So I’m grateful she’s feeling better, more like her old (young) self.  It makes me happy thinking of her running carefree with our other dogs we’ve loved, with her little friends, in heaven.  I’m glad she’s moved on; and I’m grateful for all the years we had with her.

For all the times Andrew calls us out of the blue.  I know he’s just bored and passing the time and trying not to look like he doesn’t have anyone to talk to as he walks across campus, I’m not an idiot.  But I love that our relationship is good enough that he’s comfortable calling to talk about nothing sometimes.  Or his program.  Or dating.  Or his knives.  After two years of having him gone and not being able to talk to him, the past year and a half has been such a gift.  I feel like I have my son back and that we gained a friend to boot.

For dog hair.  And puddles.  And piles.  And chewed up trash.  Because that means we have pets!  And it reminds me of what really matters and what’s not really all that important.  Even with the rugs we’ve have to toss, the paper towels and disinfectant we’ve gone through, the hours I’ve spent on laundry and floors and vacuuming and sweeping and dusting, it’s worth it when I see one of the dogs on a kid’s bed, everyone content and in love with the moment.  When it’s been that kind of day, there’s nothing like the unconditional love and acceptance of a dog.

For our camping memories in the Ozarks.  When the canoe tipped and the kids fell out.  When the raccoons ate our food in the night.  When Avery got an infection all down her leg from a scrape on a rock in the river.  When poor B got the wind knocked out of her, scaring her to death, as she jumped from the cliff rock.  Feeling relief wash over me as I discovered she was ok.  When Dad unplugged the hotel fridge and melted all the ice cream we’d bought.  When Avery forgot her toothbrush and had to use her finger.  When we left our road trip food and containers at our friends’ house.  As it poured buckets as we arrived at our hotel and had to unload in the cold wet, and when it rained all the way home and cancelled our picnicking plans.  But so fun to be together scrunched in a mini-van for a week! These memories are etched in our minds forever, and we grew closer as a family as we problem-solved and sweat and bickered and teased.

That somehow we keep making it despite all our money mistakes.  I have no idea how it works, it’s like magic.  We try so hard, but we are clearly no gurus.  We’re just still figuring things out.  Yep, even all these years later.

For experiences with a severed heart.  Because they’ve given me nowhere to turn but to Todd and God.  For the reminder to pray for my enemies.  For the consolation that God knows what’s going on and for the absolute trust I have in him despite what it looks like.

For the good ideas that make me tired.  But excited.  I wish I could execute them all, some of them scare me, some are too uncomfortable for me.  But I love that he sends them.  That he even thinks he can use me.

That I have learned so much.  It’s so humbling to look back and see how dumb I’ve been.  I cringe when I think of it all.  But I’m so glad we can change, that everyone makes mistakes and that the people who really know me give me the benefit of the doubt.

For all the books and movies and puzzles and projects I never got to.  Must’ve been doing something with real people instead.

For such a fun house to clean! Some are so tidy and already so clean, but ours is the best! There’s always something to clean. It makes such a difference when I finally put things away or get to a bathroom, the kids even notice and ask if I had a luncheon!  Still reeling from one of my favorite days this whole year: a day at home puttering, cleaning out the sewing room while listening to my favorite podcast.  In MY GLORY!  So yeah, totally happy with our house that always needs attention.

For all the food I’ve burnt, for the dinners that flopped.  Especially the ones I needed to take to someone else. Oh MY!  I guess the good in this is that I’m still learning.  Keeps me from thinking I’m all that, that I can handle things, that I’m some kind of kitchen pro.  I get it.

That I’m not a quality time gal.  How taxing would that be with a husband like Todd!  He’s gone every day 8-6:30, most Saturdays, nearly every night with either a project or church and from September to January hunting. Don’t get me wrong, I love our standing Thursday lunch dates; of course I love it when we get some time together like when we watch a show or go for long walks or read our country magazines in bed, but I’m so grateful it’s not my top love language! We would be at odds all the time if it were!

For the few pounds I continue to hang on to.  My clothes still fit and I don’t have to spend money on skinny jeans; my old ones fit just fine. :)  And I loved the consolation a friend gave me: as we age we need some extra weight so that when we get really old and sick we will have a reserve to borrow from.  Never considered myself a prepper exactly, but I do believe in doing what we can to prepare for future catastrophes and what have you, so that totally floated my boat!  Also grateful we’ve never owned a scale and that I only have to face it when I go to the doctor like twice a year.

That it’s not all sunshine and roses.  I love a cloudy gray rainy day.  And I love crunchy leaves that cover our entire yard and take days to rake.  I’m ok with an off day, a little sadness, a bit of heaviness, an uncomfortable situation now and then.  Because these bluish times force me to problem-solve, to look for the good, to turn to God, to lean in to Todd and my family, to humble myself, to appreciate the brighter days.  I’m thankful for my everyday days.  For the ordinary in life.  That I get to cook dinner so we can be together at the end of the day, for hunting season that gives Todd something to look forward to, that Callum doesn’t have his license quite yet so we can still ride together, for college and missions that help me appreciate my far-away kids, for laundry that shrinks and missed dentist appointments, for a house torn apart, and for kids who are growing up and away before my eyes.  Things change and things fall apart, life is a mess and so are the people in it.  But I choose to find the good.  And to be thankful in all things.